


Wanna Be Yours

by Bre



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pining Oliver Queen, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-28 21:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 58,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5105783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bre/pseuds/Bre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College AU. Felicity's car breaks down in a major rainstorm, sending her walking to the closest house she can find. It just so happens to belong to Oliver Queen, and he's having a 'Skivvies Only' party.</p><p>Original Prompt - Anonymous: “You can stay but your clothes must go.” Olicity College AU :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This little series of ficlets accidentally blew up on me, so I feel like it has earned it's own story.

**“You can stay, but your clothes must go.”**  


“Excuse me?” Felicity asked, her jaw dropping. “You’re… are you asking me to take off my clothes in exchange for getting shelter from the actual tsunami falling from the sky right now?”  


“It’s not me, sweetheart.” The guy on the other end of the door smiled, waving at himself and the very tiny, _tiny_  Speedo he was wearing. “Rules are rules.”

Felicity could only stare at him, at the stupid meathead idiot telling her the only way he was letting her into the house - the only house she’d managed to come upon in over a mile in this ridiculous downpour - was by taking her clothes off. Because of a stupid party. She’d known there was a party when she’d come up, because there were cars everywhere, parked in the dirt road and in the field surrounding the giant farmhouse…

She just hadn’t known it was a  _naked_  party.

Alright, the people teeming behind him weren’t actually naked, but a ‘Skivvies-Only’ party, as the banner boasted, was not any damn better.

She was so not in the mood for this. 

She’d been driving back to her dorm from the intern meeting - one that went really badly - when they’d shut down the highway because of an accident. It’d been fine until she discovered all the side roads they were directing everyone to were actually roads on scary, lightless street - because she was in the middle of _nowhere_ \- which would have ultimately been fine except her car thought it was the perfect time to _die_ … 

Which also would have been fine save for the fact that when she’d started walking, the sky jumped right onto the Bad Day Bandwagon and started vomiting water everywhere.

_She was so not in the mood._

But she was also freezing, and tired, and… well, her night had been crappy enough that if she had enough alcohol in her body, she could do this. She was tired enough, angry enough, and cold enough to huff in aggravation at the stupid meathead and his stupid meathead smile before taking the last few steps up to the door and grabbing the red cup he was holding, slamming the contents. 

The liquor burned its way down her gullet and she made a face, shoving the cup back at him - it tasted and felt like pure vodka.

“Whoa,” the guy said, grinning. “Now that’s what I like to see!”  


“Ugh,” Felicity replied, stepping into the house. 

It was blissfully warm inside from the massive amount of bodies filling the space. She left little pools of water everywhere as the meathead closed the door behind her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.  


“How about we get you a towel first, huh?” he asked and she managed a sarcastic, “That’d be super,” as he lifted his arm and shouted over her head, “Yo, Oliver, we gotta use your room, man!”  


Felicity’s heart _stopped._

_No._

She closed her eyes for a second, because the universe was not _that_  cruel to her.

Right? 

_Right?_

It was.

Because Oliver Queen looked up from across the room and right at her. Oliver Queen who looked _really amazing_  wearing nothing but a pair of skintight black boxer briefs and the stubble he’d started wearing at some point over the last summer was looking right at her and she watched the smile on his face slip away as he took her in.

She almost turned right back around and went back outside. 

Because that was so much more preferable to  _this_.

Before she could tell the meathead she was just joking, she liked walking in the rain and she’d rather keep all her clothes on until the end of time, Oliver abruptly handed his drink to the girl he’d been talking to and made his way over.

“Oh man, does he know you?” the meathead asked. “That’s cool!”  


“Yeah,” Felicity said half-heartedly. “So cool.”  


So _not_  cool.

She’d been assigned to do a project with him last year. It had not ended well. It’d actually ended with them arguing most nights as they got ready for their presentation and having a mini _tiff_ \- alright, the tiff was not so mini - in front of 500 people because they just couldn’t _agree_  on anything. They’d ending up getting an A and a comment about how partner chemistry can make any presentation that much better.

She’d immediately asked the professor to never pair her with him again.

It also really, really didn’t help that she was wildly and ridiculously attracted to him. Because she had eyes. Not because she actually _liked_ him. 

“Is it cool if we crash your room?” the meathead asked, his arm slipping across her shoulder again as Oliver reached them. She watched his eyes zero in on his friend’s arm, looking entire displeased - how _awesome,_  he was already pissed she was there. Like it was her fault the heavens decided to open up right then and send her careening into his stupid naked party.  


“No, I got it,” Oliver said, and Felicity started.  


How about _no_?

“How about _I’ve_ got it,” she said before pointing up the stairs. “I’ll go up to your room and get a towel myself, although the real question is why am I not just going to a bathroom to dry off? I’m pretty sure the bathroom has towels.”  


“Everything’s locked, Felicity,” Oliver said, his hand landing on her shoulder, pushing the meathead’s arm off her. Her heart jumped, climbing up her throat for a quick second at the warmth in his touch - she was just cold. He tugged her away from his friend, giving him a little nod, before he pushed her towards the stairs, doing a very good job of avoiding touching her at all. “Come on.”  


Like touching her was absolutely deplorable, his hand fell away when they reached the base of the stairs.

Felicity turned to him abruptly.

“This isn’t necessary, actually,” she said, forcing a fake smile to her lips. She nodded and Oliver frowned down at her - it only fueled the _‘yes, let’s get the hell away’_ running rampant through her. “I can walk. I walked here, I’m pretty sure there are other places I can go, places where I don’t have to _strip_  to stay.” She patted his naked arm awkwardly - dear god, had he always had that much muscle? Yes, yes he had… not that she’d noticed, not even a little, especially when he was being a total dick to her - and turned towards the front door. “Thanks for the offer, Oliver.”

He grabbed her arm before she could get very far and it was _definitely_  only because she was cold that his touch _burned_ her _._

“Felicity, stop,” he said, pulling her back. “They said this storm was going to be huge, which is why we’re out here in the first place. You’re not going back out there.”  


“I got here just fine,” she retorted, raising her voice to be heard over the music and the chatter surrounding them. 

“What? Are you…” Oliver made a face, an exasperated noise falling from his throat. “No. Come on, let’s go upstairs.”  


“Oliver, I’m not…”  


“Felicity,” he said sharply. “ _No_. It’s freezing out there, the storm is going to get worse, and it’s safe in here.” He paused, taking a deep breath, staring at her. “I would feel better if you stayed here, okay? At least until the storm passes. Please.”

 _Please_.

Felicity stared at him, a shiver slipping down her spine. 

Because she was cold, not because of the weird way Oliver was looking at her, like he’d…

She shook her head - _nope_ \- and then nodded. Relief skated over his face and he squeezed her elbow - had he been holding her arm the entire time? _Yes._ Her heart jumped up her throat again, nearly choking her. 

He urged her to go before him and she took a step, clearing her throat. 

“It’s nice to know you’ve finally learned how to use the word ‘please.’”

He huffed in annoyance, and she knew he was rolling his eyes.

His hand found the small of her back, guiding her up the stairs. 

She shivered.

Because she was cold.

People were everywhere, and most of them nodded and greeted Oliver, all of them eyeing her like she was a fish out of water… which, she was. She was the only one wearing any clothes, wet as they were. Her shoes squished as they made their way down the hall, passing more people - oh look, some of them had forgone _any_  skivvies, how nice - before reaching Oliver’s room. 

He pulled a key out - she really didn’t want to know from where - and unlocked the door, following her in.

She was in Oliver’s room. He had a room and she was in it and it was… so not what she would have expected. It was _warm_ , and clean, a few clothes dropped here and there, his desk covered in a few books, his laptop open, the bed unmade… 

The evidence that he’d been in that bed right there, obviously sleeping _alone_ judging by the sheet patterns, was… 

Interesting.

That was all.

Because Oliver Queen was interesting.

Nothing more.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Oliver,” she said, turning to face him as he shut the door behind them. “I can dry off and get undressed - _dressed_ , I mean, not… undressed, I’m not getting naked, because…” She let out a heavy breath, telling her mouth to _please just stop._  “You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”  


“Felicity, you don’t have to go back down there,” he replied. “Kevin’s just a jackass, you don’t have to, and you especially don’t have to… get undressed.” Her heart seized. “You can stay up here.”  


Her heart seized _even more._

“Up… here?” she asked, pointing. “In here, in your room, like… no, that’s not necessary. I’m not staying up here, that’s not… no.”  


A little smile tugged at his lips, but then it was gone the next second. “What’s wrong with my room?”

“Nothing, besides it being _your_  room, and that’s not… no,” she said, shaking her head. 

He raised his eyebrows, cocking his head, and damn it if a tiny herd of butterflies didn’t just start ramming themselves against the walls of her stomach. She was in Oliver Queen’s room, about to get undressed while he was very much so… quite undressed… 

_Nope._

She looked around quickly, her eyes finding the first door they could. “Bathroom?”  


She started walking for it, but Oliver caught her hand, tugging her to a stop. 

Her stomach dropped as his fingers tangled with hers, pulling her back to him, his arm coming around her shoulders - oh, that felt very different from the meathead’s touch, very different… in a way that made her not like him. Right. Yes. Because she didn’t like Oliver, she didn’t. She never had. He was just really cute… and the same guy who’d given her the worst working partner experience in her life. 

Right.

“Bathroom,” he said, a smile in his voice as he turned her to a door on the other side.  


His hand was still in hers. Or was hers in his? 

_What?_

“Right, great,” she breathed, nodding, stepping away - more, _tripping_  away, or _skipping_  away, judging by the way she nearly jumped away from him. “Thanks. I’ll lock the door behind me when I come back down.”

“No,” Oliver said and she looked back at him, startled. “Only the key locks the door, so I’ll wait.”  


“Oh… kay, then. I’ll be a second.”

“Take your time,” he said. 

The room was dark, save for a soft light on his nightstand and the light coming through the crack under the door… there was _light_ , but for some reason, it suddenly felt really… _really_  intimate - she was in Oliver’s room, and he was right there, and she was, and… and Felicity almost swallowed her tongue. 

“I’ll be right out here,” he said.  


Felicity nodded… and darted for the bathroom.

What was _wrong_ with her? This was _Oliver_. Why was she acting like a complete and total spaz all of a sudden? She wasn’t a spaz, she didn’t _spaz._ Not around _him_.

Felicity found a towel hanging on the rack and quickly peeled her wet clothes off, her mind trying to spin past the fact that Oliver was sitting out in his bedroom, waiting for her to come out, because for some reason she’d told him she wasn’t comfortable staying in his room, where she didn’t have to be half-naked around a bunch of strangers on a really crappy night…

Including him.

_Oh god, Oliver was going to see her in her underwear._

Her hands started shaking a little and she rolled her eyes - she was an _adult_ , she could do this. She pulled her shirt off and then her pants. She dried off - at least her bra was black, no see-through there - wringing out her hair until it was at least… 

Felicity looked in the mirror and made a little, “Eep!” noise. Her makeup was _everywhere_ , he hair was frizzing out and her skin was still a blotchy red from the storm. It made the fact that she was wearing matching panties and bra - thank the Google gods for that bit - seem entirely unimpressive and almost garish.

Oh _god_ , Oliver had seen her like this?

No. That was a good thing. Because… it deterred. Not that there was anything to actually deter _from_ , but… determent.

“Vodka,” she said, nodding. “Need that, needs lots of that, so much.”  


She wiped her eyes until they were semi-presentable and her hair… was hopeless. Running her fingers through it as much as she could, Felicity folded her clothes into a nice wet pile and left them sitting on the counter, along with the towel.

It was pretty amazing, actually, how very un-cold she suddenly was.

Without looking in the mirror again, Felicity opened the door, quickly turning the light off behind her. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the sudden lack of light and looked around, finding Oliver sitting on his bed, staring at something in his hands.

His head flew up the instant she stepped out and whatever he was holding disappeared into his fist. She furrowed her brow, wondering what exactly he was holding that he had to hide from her… but she suddenly didn’t give two craps about whatever it was because when he saw her… 

The room was too dark for her to see him properly, that had to be it, because she swore his eyes narrowed, growing darker - could they even _do_ that? - as his jaw dropped.

Oliver blinked, looking stunned - yeah, she’d be stunned too if he came crawling out of her bathroom looking like a drowned rat.

His eyes found hers again and Felicity’s breath hitched at the look on his face, her lungs forgetting their function.

She licked her lips, and his eyes dropped down to her mouth.

And then the lights went out.

Felicity jumped, shrieking, hearing Oliver’s quick steps, already up and moving towards her as the party downstairs erupted in cheers. She took a step towards the door - what she _thought_  was the door - and ran into a wall. A wall she didn’t remember being there.

“Uh…” she said and then she felt him behind her. 

“Felicity,” he said softly - probably to help guide her gently towards him - but she was already spinning towards him, ready to take the hand she was sure was out there somewhere because the dark was actually freaking her out a little… 

He was a lot closer than she thought.  


She spun right into him and his arms instantly came up to steady her, surrounding her, every inch of her pressed to every inch of him, and… Felicity gasped, her hands holding onto the first things they found - his shoulder and his arm - as he stumbled back a step, taking her with him. 

“Sorry,” she gasped, taking a quick breath and oh wow, his chest was _right there_  and it felt really good. And _big._  “I didn’t see - I mean, of course I didn’t _see_  you, it’s dark, because the lights went out. Obviously. I didn’t mean to run into you, to nearly knock you down and… sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Oliver replied softly.

Felicity told herself to remove her hands, to take a step back, but he was… there, and she was also there, and… 

Despite herself, Felicity clutched him a little tighter, leaning into him. He didn’t do anything for a split second, a split second that was long enough for her to realize what she was doing… but then his hands _moved_ , one falling down her naked back, grazing the top of her ass while the other slid over the back of her shoulders, slipping up to the back of her neck…

Felicity’s eyes fluttered shut, pushing herself closer… and she pushed herself up on her toes, her forehead brushing against his chin…

“Oliver,” she whispered, turning her face up to his…  


She felt the tremulous breath he took, felt his arms tightening, his fingers gripping her tightly.

His body was hard, so hard against hers, and warm, and he felt and smelled so good. How many times had she dreamed about this, thought about this, wondered…

“Felicity…”  


The lights came back on, and the second the light registered in conjunction with the the party groaning their disappointment downstairs, she jumped back, just as quickly as he did.

“Vodka,” she blurted.  


“What?”   


“Vodka… is needed,” she said, nodding, moving to the door. “I’m gonna go get some, because… because…”  


She had nothing.

Felicity stared at him and he stared at her… and before she said something else, or _did_  something else, she opened the door and darted into the party, really not caring that she was in her underwear with a bunch of strangers, or that her car was abandoned somewhere or that she was probably stuck there for a while until the storm passed.

If she had to walk around with Oliver anywhere near her, the only thing that mattered was alcohol, copious amounts of alcohol.

When Felicity reached the top of the stairs, she risked a glance back, her eyes meeting his.

He took a step towards her and she gripped the banister.

“Oh boy,” she whispered before she took off down the stairs.  


It was going to be a long, long night.

The End


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College AU. Felicity's car breaks down in a major rainstorm, sending her walking to the closest house she can find. It just so happens to belong to Oliver Queen, and he's having a 'Skivvies Only' party.
> 
> Original Prompt - Anonymous: “You can stay but your clothes must go.” Olicity College AU :)

Oliver tried to keep an eye on her but every damn time he got close enough to make sure she was okay, that nobody was bothering her - he knew she could take care of herself, that she didn’t _need_ him watching out for her, but he also knew Felicity Smoak, and she wasn’t having a good night. A _t all_ \- she slipped away, like she could _feel_ his eyes on her.  


The storm wasn’t showing any signs of releasing its stranglehold - rain crashed against the walls, pattering the windows; lightning lit up the sky in sudden bursts, thunder following so quick behind he thought the walls were going to tumble down. Everyone loved it, especially when the lights continued to flicker on and off every few minutes, sending a chorus of shouts and screams throughout the entire house. After the third time - especially when he thought he’d caught a glimpse of _her_ \- Oliver’d had enough. He shut them down and sent a bucket of candles around until each room was lit in soft candlelight.

When he found her again she was in the kitchen, standing among the array of alcohols and mixers on the island, finishing off one of the vodka bottles. She didn’t see him yet, people flowing in and out between the rooms.

Oliver paused at the door, staying behind the doorjamb, just watching her.

Felicity Smoak.

Was in his house.

Felicity Smoak was in his house and she was wearing nothing but a black-and-cream lacy demi-cup bra and a pair of panties that made his mouth go dry every single time he saw her.

God, she was beautiful.

He’d honestly thought he’d never get the chance or the honor to see her like this, and yet… there she was, rumpled from the rain, her makeup smudged - she didn’t look like she’d just got caught in a storm; no, she looked like she’d just woken up after a night of doing things that definitely did not include sleep.

What would it be like to wake up next to her? To see her face relaxed with sleep, a pillow crease along her cheek, her hair tousled, her body warm, her eyes scrunching in the cutest frown as he woke her up to pull her closer… 

Oliver wasn’t one for cuddling, especially in the mornings, he was more interested in getting the hell out, but with her… with her he wanted to bury his face in her neck, make her squeal as he rubbed his beard along the sensitive column. Would she smell like a mixture of whatever made her Felicity and her perfume? Would she hold a trace of his cologne, a trace of him mixed in? Or would she be all flowery shampoo, the same kind he’d get used to using when he showered at her place…

For fuck’s sake, it wasn’t like he’d thought about it or anything.  


But to wake up knowing she looked like _that_ because of _him_ , because of the way he’d touched her, the way he’d made her squirm…

Oliver’s body tightened uncomfortably and for the hundredth time since she’d walked through the door, he wondered why he’d agreed to an underwear-only party. These things usually dissolved into a mess of undergarments and limbs every which way, which was normally a great thing because he liked having a good time, but now… 

Now Felicity was here, and he was stalking her through his party, his eyes constantly glued to her, barely responding to anyone who talked to him, managing a short nod and a grunt before he swept past them.

Oliver twisted his jaw, jamming his tongue between his teeth, watching her shake a few extra drops of vodka before dunking the neck of the bottle into her cup, using it to stir whatever concoction she’d just put together.  


He should be upset that she was there, that she was crashing… he should be upset that she’d only perfected her bitchy cap since the last time they’d talked, that her opinion of him hadn’t changed a bit… he should be upset that she’d stubbornly refused to stay up in his room and instead chose to walk around a house full of strangers, wearing next to nothing, her bare feet with bright green nail polish padding gently across the hardwood floor, her sexy calves leading up to full thighs, leading to an even fuller ass… 

His palms itched with the desire to touch her again, to feel the silky smoothness of her skin under his hands as he had upstairs. The second he’d heard the startled shriek when the lights had gone, it’d been pure instinct to go to her - he’d heard her turn around, her hands smacking a wall, and her unsure, “Uh,” before he’d been there… god, the way she’d grasped at him, her nails digging in, so warm and soft and perfect… He’d daydreamed about that moment so many times - way too many times - and when she’d whispered his name, that beautiful breathless, _“Oliver…”_ he’d nearly shoved her up against the wall right then.

But he hadn’t. Because he was ninety-nine percent sure that she would’ve kneed him in the nuts and then slapped him, because she wasn’t there for that.

The lights had gone out in a strange house filled to the brim with strangers, and she’d latched onto the one thing she knew… that was it.

He should be upset, because she still treated him like the scum on the bottom of her shoe, even after all this time… but he didn’t have any right to be.

The second he’d seen her standing next to Kevin earlier, staring at him with just as much shock as he felt, his stomach had _dropped_ , hitting the floor with a vicious thud that made his tongue taste chalky.

There were few things in his life he regretted, despite doing a lot of shit he _should_ regret… but the way he’d treated her the first night they got together to work on their project was definitely one of them. 

How many times had he wished he’d cancelled, or waited a few hours, or done _anything else_ besides going into the library with what at the time felt like the weight of the world on his shoulders and taking it all out on her? She’d made a joke about his being late, giving him a smile - the same smile she’d been giving him since they first noticed each other when the class started, the smile that made his lips curl, the one that made his heart skip a beat… and his response had been to bite her head right off.

It’d set the precedent for the rest of their interactions.

He was a dick, and he deserved to be treated the way she was treating him.

But god, it hadn’t stopped him from wishing he hadn’t, from wishing he’d done things just a little differently because she was a girl in his class, a girl he’d harbored a slight crush on, one that only grew by leaps and bounds the more time he spent with her, and what was the first thing he did? He shit on her, because he was an idiot who’d chosen to leave the rubber off one night, leading to a pregnancy scare that nearly turned his damn hair white.

A baby with Laurel Lance was the _last_ thing he needed, and unfortunately Felicity had been the first person he’d seen after hearing his ex-girlfriend had missed her period. It’d been a false alarm, thankfully, but the way he’d treated Felicity most certainly had not been.

Even thinking about it now made his stomach twist.

He’d tried to apologize later, but the words just wouldn’t come out right - he was _ashamed,_ of how he’d treated her, that he’d been so careless with Laurel… his chance to fix it came… and then it went, and instead of them slipping into an amiable relationship, he just pushed them further down a slippery slope that ended with them at each other’s throats until the end of their presentation.

When they’d gotten their grade back, he’d gone to talk to Professor Diggle about it and he’d told him that Felicity had requested they don’t work together again.

It should’ve been exactly what he wanted, but the thought of never being near again made it feel like someone was twirling his nerves into a knot.

But she was here… and he couldn’t stop himself from giving it way more meaning than it had.

Felicity set the bottle down and lifted her cup, taking a sniff, her nose scrunching in disgust before taking a sip. Her face twisted at the taste and he smiled - she was so fucking cute.

She swallowed her single sip, looking like she regretted dunking an entire bottle of vodka into her cup before her eyes scanned the kitchen, dancing over the numerous bodies filling the space.

And then she saw him.

Her eyes widened almost comically before she caught herself; she pulled her shoulders back and turned away, heading out the other kitchen entrance.  


By time he made it over to the other hallway, she’d already disappeared.

*

The next time he saw her was in one of the upstairs hallways. 

He’d had two shots of something bright pink and the world was feeling a little more manageable… or so he thought until a group of half-naked idiots ran behind him, shoving him towards her. She stepped back so fast and hard she nearly dropped her cup before shooting him an exasperated glare.

“Sorry,” he said, stepping back just as quickly. “I wasn’t…”  


The sound of giggles and herding feet reached his ears just as Felicity looked and her hand shot out, grabbing his arm, yanking him back against her. 

He more felt than heard her gasp when the crowd pushed them together, her breasts pushing up against his chest, his dick pressing into her soft stomach… Oliver’s eyes slammed shut as they were jammed against the wall by the trundle of people running through the hall after the others - something fizzed, liquid splashed out of cups, a trail of bubbles following the group as they made their way into one of the rooms.

Oliver couldn’t be bothered with what the hell people were doing in his house because all he could focus on was _her_. 

He didn’t realize when he’d done it but he had his body caged around hers, protecting her from getting jostled and she had her face turned into his chest, her hand still wrapped around his bicep.

Felicity glanced up at him just as he looked down… and everything around them slowly faded away. They weren’t surrounded by a mass of people, he didn’t hear the shouts and loud conversations, or the people brushing behind him…

There was only _her_.

“You okay?” he asked, licking his lips.

Her eyes dropped to his mouth and his body responded like he’d been shocked - every nerve in his body roared to life as she took a shaky breath, her lids growing heavy, her tongue darting out to wet her lip.

It was the sexiest goddamn thing he’d ever seen, and he wanted to know more than anything what that lip tasted like.  


And then Felicity closed her eyes, shaking her head. 

“Uh… yes, I’m fine. Very fine. Very…” Her cup was half-empty and her breath smelled sweet… that was the only explanation for why she wasn’t pushing him away, why when she opened her eyes her fingers on his arm tightened, her eyes meeting his again. “Fine.”

Oliver stared at her, leaning in closer… she smelled like vodka and strawberries, a light trace of rain still on her skin, something else…

She was so close… and she wasn’t pushing him away.

 _She wasn’t pushing him away._

She was probably more than a little buzzed, and he definitely was, from whatever the hell had been in those shots -  damn deceiving pink froufrou drinks - and this…

He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t let _her_ do this.

The realization hit her at the same time.

Her mask slipped back into place just as he stepped back, effectively breaking the spell.  


They stared at each other for a beat, the air still feeling thick and congealed… she was right there, so close…

He could _see_ the heat in her eyes and Oliver knew if he kissed her right now, she wouldn’t stop him.

It was a heady thought, one that made his body harden in anticipation, with the desire to pick her up and push her up against that wall, to finally taste her, feel her against him…

But there was no way in hell he was letting the first time he kissed Felicity Smoak be because of some strawberry vodka concoction and fucking pink froufrou drinks.

*

He wasn’t sure _why_ he kept looking for her - alright, that was a lie - but what a sane person would’ve done is step back and realize she clearly didn’t want anything to do with him. A sane person would understand that a girl avoiding you like the plague wasn’t a good sign, that it took a metric of alcohol for the ice in her eyes to finally melt, that she definitely hadn’t crashed his party by choice…

Instead he wandered around, eyes roving everywhere, waiting to see that familiar head of blonde hair…

They caught each other’s eyes every once in a while as the hours passed. He spotted her talking to people, even laughing once or twice, before she slipped away again.

*

The next time Oliver caught up with was when she was stepping into one of the back bathrooms, lips pressed tightly together, her cup still half-fill like she’d given up on it. He furrowed his brow as she closed the door, nodding his head absently to whatever the hell Tommy was saying, his eyes never once leaving where she’d disappeared.

Was she okay?

She didn’t look sick, but that didn’t mean…

Felicity was in there for a total of thirty seconds before she slipped out again, now cupless. 

She looked up like she could feel his gaze and when their eyes met, he raised his eyebrows, silently asking her if she was alright. She blinked - in astonishment or surprise, he wasn’t sure - before she nodded, giving him what almost looked like a heartfelt smile before the crowd swallowed her up again.

Tommy abruptly snatched his cup out of his hand and Oliver’s eyes snapped back to him as his best friend took a heavy swig of…

“Dude, is this water?” Tommy asked, making a face. He sniffed it and gave Oliver a look of affronted incredulity and concern. “You feeling okay, buddy?”

“I’m fine,” Oliver said dismissively, taking his cup back before heading to the kitchen.

*

It was well past four in the morning when Oliver made his way through the main living room, his eyes scanning the crowded makeshift dance floor someone had created at some point earlier in the night. Most people were well-past drunk and quite a few of them had already had sex at some point, which meant the party was dissolving into a giant ‘no fucks given’ zone. Usually he was right in the middle, completely blitzed, but for the first time in a very long time, Oliver Queen was sober and realizing much earlier than noon the next day what a ridiculous mess these kinds of parties were.  


His eyes slid over the dancing bodies - he wasn’t looking for _her_ , no, he was just making sure everyone was doing alright. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d been sober enough to do such a thing.

Lightning flashed from the corner of his eye, and he glanced over…

She was standing at the picture window, arms crossed where she leaned against the wall, watching the sky light up at jarring intervals, the windowpanes slathered with pelting rain.

She was a stark contrast to the rest of the room, which was filled to the brim with gyrating bodies. Oliver kept his eyes on her as the slow-paced song overhead gave way to something softer, something that suited the candlelight and intimacy of half-naked people dancing a hell of a lot better.

The mood in the entire room shifted and she stiffened like she could feel it.

Oliver was ready to walk over and ask her if she wanted to escape to his room for the last few hours when he saw Kevin slipping up behind her. Kevin - whose Speedo was slipping dangerously in body-floss territory - looped his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into his side, yanking her out of her thoughts. 

Oliver’s brow furrowed, something dark and heavy filling his chest. He was already moving to interfere before he stopped himself, gritting his teeth. He definitely didn’t _like_ it, didn’t like that Kevin was so _familiar_ with her, but he couldn’t do a damn thing about it because she wasn’t _his_ to defend. She didn’t _need_ a defender, and if she didn’t like Kevin, she was more than able to take care of herself…

He took a deep breath… but he couldn’t take his eyes off them.

Those _were_ his thoughts until Oliver saw Felicity shaking her head, giving Kevin as polite a smile as she could, turning back to the window…

That should have been the end of it, but instead the fuckhead wrapped his arm around Felicity’s very naked waist and lifted her off her feet, spinning them both into the slow-dancing fray.

“Kevin!” Oliver snapped, making the people around him jump, but he didn’t see them.  


He was there in the blink of an eye.  


He knew the guy didn’t mean any harm, that he was just a giant, meathead idiot who got a little too handsy when he was drunk, but he was so much bigger than Felicity and Oliver wasn’t willing to wait to see how she handled it.

Oliver just acted, pushing his way through the throng, his eyes never leaving them. He saw Felicity patiently pushing Kevin away again, and he was giving her the most pathetic and ridiculous pout act Oliver had ever seen… but the idiot nodded, relenting, and Felicity gave him another smile, this one a little more amused, before someone else wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her even further into the dancing mob.

“Hey!” Felicity snapped, moving to elbow the guy who’d innocently grabbed her - or not so innocently, considering where his hand was starting to migrate - but Oliver was already there, removing his arm with more than a little force. 

Felicity’s startled eyes flew to his as the guy kept on dancing like nothing had happened. 

She blinked up at him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he said with a little smile.

He touched her elbow, urging her to move off the dance floor but the bodies were already moving in around them, closing them in. He rolled his eyes, grabbing her hand - their fingers tangled together naturally, like they were meant to, like that was their purpose, and his heart skipped a beat when she gripped him tightly - and pulled her behind him but they were even more blocked in by a wall of dancing, drunk people. 

The moving mass pushed her against him, making it hard for his lungs to remember how to work; the sudden over-awareness of his entire backside sent him reeling…

Especially when she wrapped her arm around his waist, her foot brushing against his.  


Oliver closed his eyes, his hand coming up to graze her arm, almost like he was reminding her what she was doing. 

She didn’t move it. 

He slowly wrapped his hand around her, holding it in place as he spun in her embrace, their bodies jostling in time with the dancing around them. 

Felicity was flush against him, but this time she was the one holding on as she looked up at him…

Oliver didn’t move an inch. He was perfectly content to stay right there, touching her, feeling her - _and she was letting him_ \- knowing he _couldn’t_ have more because there _wasn’t_ more…

He wasn’t sure how much time passed as they stood there, staring at each other, but he didn’t care…

She made the first move.

Felicity untangled her fingers from his and tentatively pushed her other arm around him as well, _hugging him_ , and Oliver felt a sudden floating sensation that made him want to close his eyes and sink right in. She sprawled one hand across the small of his back as the other moved up, her fingers brushing over his skin, making him shiver, following the muscles until she reached his spine.

She never looked away.

Oliver couldn’t read the look in her eyes, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

He slowly wrapped his arms around her, his hands following her arms up to her shoulders, her hair tickling his fingers. When his thumb brushed against her pulse point - her heart was racing, and Oliver’s leapt into his throat.

He took a tremulous breath, feeling like any second he was going to either melt or burst into a million pieces right there.

This was goddamn _ridiculous_. 

How could a simple touch affect him so much? How could one look from her send him tripping over himself until he forgot what words were? 

Her hands ghosted over his back, making him feel faint… her nails scraped lightly, sending goosebumps skittering across his skin… Felicity closed her eyes, turning her face down, angling her head so her cheek grazed his hand.

His heart was pounding so fast he was afraid he might pass out.

“Felicity,” he whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the noise surrounding them, but she heard her it, her eyes opening, meeting his.  


Oliver’s hands moved of their own accord - he wrapped one around her shoulders again, his fingers skating over her bra straps, itching to slide underneath them - not to _remove_ it, but to get _closer_ to her - while his other moved to cup her neck, slowly sliding up until he was cupping her face.

Was she trembling, or was that him?

He couldn’t tell.

The music moved around them, the people swaying as one, adding to the intimate little bubble they were creating.

Oliver brushed his thumb across her cheek and her eyes fluttered, her lips parting in a soft breath. 

Felicity turned her face up to his and he leaned down. 

His eyes slipped shut, hyper aware of every single bit of her that he touched, of where her fingers rested, of the way she smelled - like rain-drenched citrus and strawberry lemonade - of how _good_ she felt…

He leaned down until their lips weer barely touching, until they were sharing the same breath, until he felt every bit of her like he was inside her, feeling them alongside her…

The hum under her skin, the hitch in her breathing, the tiny whimper…

And then the music suddenly changed, shifting back into a fast-paced song that had the crowd around them erupting, shoving against them, pushing them apart.  


The moment was gone.

Oliver pulled back in time to see her gazing up at him, her brow furrowed…

“Oliver, that…”  


“Hey, it finally stopped raining!” someone shouted and Felicity’s eyes widened before she turned to look outside, shattering their connection.

Oliver’s heart dropped and he quickly closed his eyes, chastising himself.

What was he doing? He had more self-control than _that,_ he’d almost…

It’d stopped raining. She was going to leave, get back to her life, get out of the stupid pit of debauchery he’d buried himself in, a place where she had no business, a place he wanted her to get out of…

“Here,” Oliver said, tugging his room key out of the hidden pocket in his briefs. 

Her eyes flew back to him as he stepped back, forcing her to drop her arms. 

Oliver grabbed her hand and pressed the key into her palm before dropping it like her skin was on fire. 

It might as well have been. 

“What…” Felicity stared at the key and then at him, frowning like she wasn’t quite sure what he was doing.

Right. 

Because he was Oliver “Ollie” Queen, she had every reason to think he’d do something like that: tell her to head on up, to lose the bra and panties and tuck herself into his bed, that he’d be up after he shut the party down…

That’s probably exactly what he would have done if she hadn’t shown up, with whoever’d caught his attention that night.

His mouth tasted sour at the thought of doing that with her.

Instead he nodded to the stairs.

“If you dial ‘5′ on the phone in my room, it’ll link you to our driver. He lives on the property, and he’ll be able to take you back to your car, or wherever you need to go.”  


Felicity blinked with a soft, “Oh,” looking back at the key. She lifted it in question and he said, “If I’m not down here, just leave it by the front door.”

“Oh… okay then,” she said, giving him a tight smile. 

She didn’t leave for a second, staring at him. Oliver blinked, inhaling slowly… _waiting_ … for what? He wasn’t quite sure, he wasn’t sure what he was hoping she’d do, or what he’d do, but the weirdest sensation of fear kept him from moving.

She broke eye contact first. 

“Sorry about crashing,” she said, waving at the party.  


Oliver gave her a short laugh, fighting to keep his eyes on her face as he said, “Sorry for making you get undressed.”

“Yes, right,” Felicity said, lifting her eyebrows. “I was not expecting that when I chose this bra.” She made a face. “Not that I put that much thought into it, or care… about it, in this sense, because… I guess?” She closed her eyes with a self-deprecating laugh, one that made everything in Oliver soften. God, she was so cute. “And now you get to deal with up-all-night Felicity. She’s a riot.”  


Oliver smiled, saying, “I like every side of you I’ve seen,” before he could stop the words. 

Felicity blinked at him, and he swore she blushed before she ducked her head, tucking her face away from him.

She held up the key with a, “Thanks again,” and then she turned, making her way through the crowd. He watched her all the way to the stairs. She paused, looking like she was going to look back, and Oliver looked away before she didn’t.

*

The house was toning down, people going to sleep, some leaving, the new day starting to make itself known ending the party.

Oliver tugged the large quilt tighter around him, staring at the sun rays starting to highlight the horizon. It was a rich, dusky orange, intermixed with bright pinks and low purples, coloring the land it touched as the sun slowly rose, bringing warmth to the rain-ravaged world. Everything was perfectly clear, the air clean and crisp, mist hovering over the field that stretched out behind the house, making everything look ethereal.

One of his favorite things about when it rained this far out in the country was how cold it was right before the sun rose; it was refreshing, like everything had been washed clean and was waking up renewed.

He was usually too drunk to appreciate it, to even _see_ the sun rising, passed out somewhere or trying to kick people out before the cops showed up _again_. 

But tonight…

Oliver sighed, leaning on his knees, letting the cold wet wood of the porch sink into his bones through the quilt. His mom would kill him if she knew he was using his grandmother’s quilt for this, but his room was too far… and she might still be up there, getting dressed, waiting for the car to arrive so she could leave. He didn’t have any classes with her this semester, something that was supposed to be a good damn thing, which meant the chances of seeing her again were pretty much slim to none.

A sharp stab hit him right in the heart and he smirked at his idiot self.

He didn’t realize how much he really liked her until she was right there, until she was back in his world, like a stupid flare gun right into his chest cavity.

He’d been so close tonight, all he would’ve had to do was take that final step towards her, close the space between them, feel her body against his, her hands on his arms, her nails scraping along his shoulder until she reached his neck where he’d shiver because it was _her_ touch…

For the millionth time since he’d met her, he wondered what she’d taste like. She’d be responsive, he knew that, she was one of the most emotionally aware people he’d ever met and he _knew_ she’d be the same if he kissed her… but it’d probably end with her slapping him, and he’d deserve it. Every damn moment he’d seen her tonight, he could have done something, but that felt too much like he was taking advantage.

Because it _was_ taking advantage - she was stranded at his house, a house filled with strangers, wearing next to nothing and drinking way more than was entirely necessary.

He never wanted to take advantage of Felicity Smoak.

“God, Queen, you are a fucking mess,” he said despondently, burying his face in the quilt, taking a deep breath. It was a little musty from sitting in the closet but it smelled like home at the same time, and it let him relax a little bit, let him settle in his pit of self-pitying…  


“A mess, huh?”  


Oliver jumped at the voice, his heart leaping into his throat as he spun.

“Felicity,” he breathed, an incredulous smile covering his face. She was still in her bra and panties where she leaned out the backdoor, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, uncertainty coloring her face. He blinked. “What are you doing here, I thought you left.”  


“Well, I, uh…” She hesitated, biting the tip of her tongue before she stepped outside completely, a little shiver wracking her frame as she took a tentative step towards him. “Is there room in there for me?”  


“What?” Oliver asked - _what?_ \- and the second the word came out he started, the meaning behind her question hitting him. He nodded, opening the blanket to make room for her. “Oh, yeah, yeah, come on, come here.”  


Felicity smiled and darted over, stepping down the steps before pushing herself into the space he’d made… which was right flush against him. Oliver inhaled sharply, barely keeping himself from making the little sound edging its way from his throat as she pushed herself closer, seeking his warmth. 

Oliver pulled the quilt around her, cocooning her in with him, his arm wrapping around her chilled back, pulling the blanket in tight.

“Better?” he whispered and she nodded, shifting, and he felt every bit of it. His eyes fluttered shut, his body instinctively turning into hers, taking a deep breath, inhaling her.

She smelled like she’d been at a party all night, like she’d gotten caught in a nasty rainstorm, like she’d had her hair styled before the rain demolished it, and… _Felicity_.

It took him a second to realize she was cuddling herself closer, wrapping her arms around his chest, her body expanding as she took in a deep breath.

He felt the tension leaving her body, like she was actually… _comfortable_ , like she was…

The instant it hit him, a manic hysteria slammed into his chest, flooding his veins. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry, his throat becoming tight.

_Felicity Smoak was cuddling with him._

“What are you doing?” he asked, the words coming out in a choked whisper.

She froze.  


“Uh… oh god, did I read too much into…” 

Felicity suddenly pulled back, looking up at him with wide eyes - for a split second he was stunned speechless not by the fact that she was cuddling with him, that she was there at all, but that her eyes were so _blue_ ; they were so clear, so beautiful, so… _Felicity._

“This was dumb, wasn’t it?” Her eyes slammed shut as she pulled away from him, her mouth running away from her, “I was at your door upstairs, and I was so tired, I just… the thought of going home was a lot and I didn’t… want to, as stupid as that sounds, because… I didn’t go in and I was like, ‘Why am I not going in, just get out of here, you had a really crappy night, and your car is still out there somewhere and you’re exhausted,’ but I didn’t, because I… and I… okay, I know _why_ I didn’t, and now I’m just a giant idiot for thinking that you felt the same way too, oh my… god, I can’t believe…”  


She clapped her hands to her face with a pitiful groan.

Oliver’s jaw dropped.

“I cannot believe I thought this was a good idea,” she moaned, and then she nodded rapidly, looking anywhere but at him as she pushed on his arm. “I’ll just go now.”  


“No, wait,” Oliver blurted, grabbing her before she got too far. Her eyes flew to his in surprise - fear was laced in there, and he wanted to erase it completely. “Don’t… go. Please.”  


“… what?”

“Stay,” he said, his tongue feeling seven times bigger than it was as he looked at her… as she looked at him. “I want you to stay.”  


“You do?” she asked, her eyes becoming luminescent, and the sight made his stomach clench. 

“Yes,” Oliver said, nodding. “A lot.” A small smile tugged at his lips, one that grew as he said, “Badly. Very much… a lot.”  


Felicity laughed, a shaky sound that mirrored the _‘holy fuck is this really happening?’_ sloshing through his system. She bit her lip, looking uncertain, and then she scooted a little closer again. When she didn’t wrap her arms around his waist, Oliver surprised them both by wrapping his around her, hauling her against him. She let out a shocked, “Oh,” and a spontaneous smile lit up her face as she turned in his arms, curling up against him, making the little cocoon a lot warmer than it had been just a moment ago.

She snaked her arms around his waist, her hands skating over his skin.

“Is this… is this okay?” she whispered and a breathy chuckle escaped him.

_Was it okay?_

“Very okay,” he replied, his eyes slipping shut. He pulled her in closer, tightening his arm around her back.

Felicity rested her head on his shoulder, staring out at the misty field along with him as the world around them grew warmer. When she’d settled, Oliver gently rested his cheek on the top of her head, feeling more awake and alive than he had in a very long time.

The floating sensation was back as his mind spun out of control. Every time the words, _“Does this mean…”_ snapped through his head, he immediately squashed them, pushing the hope down… because he didn’t want to push it, he didn’t want to push her away by thinking it was more, not until he knew what she wanted, what she was there for…

He knew it wasn’t healthy at all that he was very willing to be whatever she wanted in that moment… because if he could just have a glimpse, a taste, a moment…

Holding her like he was, right then, watching the sunrise, it was…

_Perfect._

He was in trouble, and he didn’t even care. He’d care later, afterwards, but for now… now he had her and he was going to bask.

“Are you…” he started, his voice rough. He swallowed as she shifted slightly before she pulled back to look at him. He looked down at her, at the way the sun made her skin glow, how her eyes sparkled, the rays emphasizing everything about her… He couldn’t read the look on her face still, he couldn’t decipher the way she was looking at him, and he was afraid to identify what he saw swirling in her eyes. “Does this… are you staying?”

He had no idea what the hell he was asking.

Oliver closed his eyes in exasperation. For fuck’s sake, he couldn’t even _speak_ around her, what the hell was he asking?

He _wanted_ her to stay with him, but he didn’t.

He _wanted_ her to say she wanted to go upstairs with him, but he didn’t.

He wanted… he just wanted _her_ , and he didn’t know how to say it, how to tell her that, not after everything they’d been through.

She was silent, her face stoic. She didn’t look away, and he couldn’t bring himself to either… but the silence grew heavier, staining the air around them - _around him_ \- and before he could fully listen to the voice telling him to just  _relax_ , he blurted, “Not… you don’t have to… I meant there are extra rooms, if you don’t… I don’t want to make you think I’m asking you to stay with me, I’m not… asking that.”

“I thought I was the only one who talked in sentence fragments,” she whispered, a tiny smile gracing her words.

“I can’t think when I’m around you,” Oliver replied without thinking, and her eyes widened, dancing over his face before dropping to his lips as he finished, “I can’t… I don’t know what to say… when I’m near you, Felicity, I don’t… know what to say.”

Felicity took in a tremulous breath - he felt her lungs inhaling in jerky movements, her chest pressing against his side - and then she let it out slowly.

Her eyes met his.

“I want you to ask me to stay,” she said softly. “With you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse! Thank you for reading!
> 
> I'm posting this story as it is, with two parts, since it's gotten much longer than anticipated, and stretched out to four chapters total. I finally finished drafted the third part and I'll be posting it tomorrow. Thank you for the support for this 'verse, it means so much that you've enjoyed it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College AU. Felicity's car breaks down in a major rainstorm, sending her walking to the closest house she can find. It just so happens to belong to Oliver Queen, and he's having a 'Skivvies Only' party.
> 
> Original Prompt - Anonymous: “You can stay but your clothes must go.” Olicity College AU :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to this little mini-series has blown me away! Thank you so much to everyone who sent me messages and responded to it, I’m so overwhelmed and grateful. This one kept getting longer and longer... and longer... and then I didn't have the time I thought I would at work to work on it today, so thank you to Margaret for the beta and for just being amazing.
> 
> I hope you guys like the update!

Felicity pulled him up the stairs behind her, their fingers interlaced, never letting go as they stepped over a sleeping body on the landing, passing open rooms where others slumbered. She didn’t look back as she made her way down the hall, delicately avoiding a spilled drink and someone’s boxers, as she pulled him right up to his door.

And then she paused.

Oliver’s heart stopped, wondering if she was changing her mind, if now that they were about to go into his room she was going to realize it was more real, that maybe this wasn’t a great idea… instead, she turned back to him, the key to his room in her palm. 

She held it out for him.

He huffed out a breath, smiling, before picking it up.

When their skin touched, a little shock stole through him and his eyes flew back to hers.

Her breath hitched, her hand curling around his for a split second.

Oliver, pretending his heart hadn’t just grown to three times its size, reached around her and fitted the key into the lock.

“Oliver,” she whispered, and he looked at her.

She was staring at his lips.

A wild hot flush attacked him at the sight of her lust-drugged lids, her cheeks rosy with a need he knew very well, and he almost - _almost_ \- opened his mouth to tell her that he didn’t want to rush into this… 

Oliver let out a barely audible, “Felicity,” not sure what he wanted to say, what exactly he _should_ say… 

She let out a tiny little whimper, one he felt in the pit of his stomach. Felicity cupped his face, tugging him down to her level, shoving herself up to reach him.

Oliver half-expected her to attack him, for their lips to crash together until there was nothing left but _them_ , but she stopped at the last second, pausing, like she wanted to make sure this was right, that he was right there with her.

Her warm breath danced over his lips, her slender hands clutching him close, and he waited, not touching her, not doing anything, letting her dictate everything.

Felicity held him tightly, and he felt so oddly protected in her embrace. It was the stupidest thing he could think, but it was true. She was so tiny, so slight compared to him, but she commanded so much life, so much so that everything around her bended to her will, and he was just as powerless to do anything but.

It didn’t matter that he was physically bigger or stronger, she was the solid one between them, the one who could withstand anything, she always had been, ever since they started their project together. She’d been the one to put aside what he’d done, to forge ahead, to rise to the challenge when he said something just to push her buttons and to push them both to one of the best grades he’d ever gotten on a group project.

He waited, a thin tremble of anticipation starting to translate across his nerves, waiting for her to take the final step…

He’d wait until the end of time, for as long as she needed.

“Oliver,” she breathed again, her quiet gasp ghosting over his lips.

She knew was he was doing, that he was waiting… 

Felicity let out the tiniest sigh, one that made his chest clench, and then she kissed him.

Oliver would remember this moment for the rest of his life. He wouldn’t remember that they were standing in the hallway of his family’s country house, both half-naked and smelling like old beer and sweat, or that everything before this moment had been fueled by a misunderstanding that blossomed into a mutual dislike that barely carried them through the last several months without killing each other…

No, what he’d remember - what he’d care about - was that he was kissing her, he was _finally_ kissing her, and it was _everything_. 

Her lips were dry and she tasted like old vodka with stale lemonade, and he knew he tasted even worse, but none of that mattered because Felicity Smoak was kissing him.

A heady white noise rushed through his head as adrenaline slammed into him with so much force it left him shaking. He inhaled quickly, almost too quickly, every inch of him reeling.

Something deep inside him shifted, and he gave in.

Oliver moaned… and then he was grabbing her waist, pushing them back until they hit the wall. He crowded her up against it, running his tongue along the seam of lips, begging entrance. With a breathy gasp, Felicity opened for him and they groaned at the same time as he took compete and total advantage. 

He kissed her with a desperation he’d never felt before - he needed to get closer to her, feel more of her - and she returned it with equal ardor. He was vaguely aware of her arms wrapping around his neck, of her leg curling around his, of his hand sliding on the back of her neck, tangling in her hair, his other hand slipping behind her, slipping under the seam of her panties, brushing across the top of her luscious ass…

It was _perfect_ , and he couldn’t get enough.

He’d been sporting a pathetic hard-on for most of the night - having to stare at her, never _having_ her, being near her without actually being able to _touch_ her… it’d been a special kind of torture, but now, now he was hardening to the point of pain as she pushed herself against him, opening herself for him.

God, he wanted her… he _needed_ her.

Felicity mewled, angling her head to deepen the kiss, one of her hands cupping his face, her nails scratching at his cheek, slipping across his ear. It was everything he’d thought it be but so much more. His heart soared, pulling her closer, pushing her further up the wall, needing to be _closer_ , so badly it burned.…

“Aah,” she whined, the sound so perfectly breathless.

He _needed_ her…

His foot slipped on the runner decorating the hallway, just enough to remind him where exactly he was.

No, not out there, not in the hallway, not where anyone could see them, see _her_ …

Oliver pulled back with a broken, “Oh god, Felicity,” his breathing labored. He pushed his forehead against hers, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to find his equilibrium before he did something he knew he’d regret… like take her right up against this wall, right then and there. 

Felicity held onto him tightly, her chest heaving, her nails digging into him.

And then she rotated her hips, rubbing the heavy ridge in his boxers up against her lower stomach and he groaned, turning his head to bury it in her neck. Oliver gathered her up in his arms, holding her closer. 

Felicity shuddered in his arms with a soft moan, arching her back, her leg tightening around him…

Oliver moved his hips against her, just enough to send the most amazing sensations scattering through him, just enough to make her _moan_ his name in a way that sent a shiver down his spine.

He did it again, stooping down to hook his hand under her knee, pulling her leg up so he was flush against her, pressing right against her heat, right where his entire being ached to be.

“Oh!” Felicity whined, pushing her chest into his. “Oh god…”

Oliver pressed himself closer to her, _deeper_ … he wanted _more_ \- he wanted to hear everything she had to give him, every little breathy noise she made as he touched her, worshipped her, showed her how much…

He pulled her leg up higher, spreading her more before he pulled his hips back and _thrust_ up into her, his rock hard dick straining through his boxers, moving in a rocking motion that had her shuddering her again. She dug her nails in, gasping for air as her head fell back, exposing more of her beautiful neck.

Oliver kissed her pulse point, right where he’d touched it earlier, and he felt the powerful thrum of her heart against his lips, a perfect mixture with the needy pants falling from her throat as he repeated the motion, groaning with her at the thought of what waited for him - for _them_ …

Felicity gripped the back of his neck just as her lips found the shell of his ear and when her hot little tongue flickered over his earlobe, he thrust harder, making her keen. They moved together, slowly building a quiet pleasure between them, somehow feeling a hundred times more intimate than if they’d been naked, if they’d been…

A high-pitched wolf whistle sounded from down the hallway and Oliver broke away from her faster than he thought humanly possible. 

One second they were wrapped around each other, and the next he was in front of her, blocking her from whoever the hell was watching. 

Felicity immediately ducked behind him with a quiet, “Oh my god,” as Kevin did an obscene body jiggle at the other end of the hallway.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Oliver said, glaring at him. Felicity’s hands tightened on his arms, her forehead pressing into the center of his back. He stepped closer to her, making sure she was hidden as he pointed at his idiot fraternity brother. “Kevin, get the hell out of here.”

“Get it, Queen, get it!” the jackass shouted down the hallway.

Oliver opened his mouth to tell him to get the _fuck_ out of there before he noticed Felicity stepping back, letting him go, and the words died on his tongue. 

This was it, this was the moment she realized this was a really fucking horrible idea and she was going to go home.

_Fucking asshole Kevin_.

Oliver clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to turn around, just to see what her face looked like, to see what she was thinking… 

Instead he shot daggers at Kevin, who took that as his cue to giggle and run down the stairs, his Speedo slipping around in ways that made Oliver want to cut his eyeballs out.

“Your friends are super charming,” Felicity said.

Oliver turned to her with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t… I’m sorry about that, I…” He blanked. “He’s an idiot.”

She smiled - a real, heart-bursting smile that made his blood pump faster - and his eyes dropped to her mouth. 

_She was staying_. 

Her lips were bright red, swollen, and she already had little aggravated burn marks from his beard. She was flushed, her cheeks pink, her eyes bright… 

She was _gorgeous_.

“You’re staring,” she whispered, and Oliver started, closing his eyes.

“Sorry, I’m just…” He blinked, licking his lips, unable to find what it was exactly he wanted to say. He was just… _mesmerized_. “Sorry.”

The pink in her cheeks deepened as she blushed and he watched it spread over her delicate skin, down her check and chest. 

He couldn’t pull his eyes away as the creamy skin across the top of her breasts turned a light pink.

Oliver bit the tip of his tongue - because now he was _definitely_ staring - and turned back to his room, unlocking the door, swinging it open. The sun was starting to cascade into his room, still dusky as it rose over the horizon, slanting through the blinds, creating oblong shadows across the floor. He ushered her in before him, barely glancing back out in the hallway to see if anyone else was out there before he had the door closed and relocked.

And then…

And then he suddenly had no idea what to do.

No, he knew what to do, but he didn’t want to do that with Felicity. He wanted to… _woo_ her, to make her feel comfortable, not shove himself at her, overwhelm her, throw her on the bed… 

Oliver took a deep breath. 

Alright, he really _did_ want to do all that, but at the same time…

This was _Felicity_.

For fuck’s sake, since when did he suddenly think so much? The girl of his dreams was in his room, she was finally in his room and more than willing judging by the sounds she’d been making just a second ago, by the heat he’d felt through her panties as he’d…

Still.

It was _Felicity_.

“Oliver…” 

Felicity grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers through his, the spark they’d felt in the hallway burning hotter when their palms touched. He stared at their hands dumbly - the second she’d touched him, it was like an inferno coming to life under his skin. It traveled from her fingers up through his arms, filling his chest cavity with fire - how could that one single touch do so much, how was she affecting him like this? He’d never felt this _desperation_ before… 

She took a halting step towards him and his eyes flew back to hers; she looked almost as frazzled as he felt. She squeezed his hand in hers, running her thumb over his, the tip of her finger catching on his nail.

He should be taking the lead, he should be grinning, saying something to put her at ease, touching her - _anything¬_ \- but he wasn’t. Because he wanted this… but he wanted _more_. He wanted to take his time, he wanted to show her how much this meant to him, that he wanted it to be more, that he wasn’t just using her, that he wanted _her_.

But he couldn’t _think_.

Not when she was looking at him like _that_.

Oliver choked out a noise - he had no idea what the noise was, if he was trying to say her name, if he was trying to ask her if this was okay still, if he could just… _he didn’t fucking know_ \- and then he was moving, stepping towards her, like it was the only thing to do, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Because it was.

She made him so nervous he wanted to punch himself in the face, but at the same time, now that he was moving, it was so _easy_.

Oliver lifted their laced fingers, almost in a daze, his eyes never leaving hers as he tugged her into his arms. He slowly cupped her cheek, angling her head…

_This_ , this was what he was supposed to do for the rest of his life, he knew it in his soul.

Felicity moaned the second their lips touched and it was the sexiest damn thing he’d ever heard. The sound sailed through him, filling him, urging him on, and he wrapped his lips around her bottom one, sucking it into his mouth, causing her to gasp, to open up for him again…

It was his turn to moan as he dropped her hand and wound his arms around her, pulling her flush against him again. One hand ran over her back, skating over her bra as the other slid down, brushing over her panties… Felicity arched into him, pushing up onto her toes, trying to get closer and he met her halfway, dipping down, wrapping his arm around her back, the other grabbing her leg, hoisting her off her feet.

Felicity let out a shocked little noise, the sound vibrating against his lips, and he lifted her closer, her skin sliding against his, feeling the warmth between her thighs as she held onto him. He took a halting step towards his bed, unwilling to stop kissing her, unwilling to stop _anything_ ; she brushed her hand across his shoulders, making him shiver, her other sliding up his neck into his hair.

Her legs tightened around him, her hips thrusting against his chest…

His hit the bed before he realized he’d been walking and he almost stumbled, making her inhale sharply, pulling away from him with a smile on her lips that made his knees feel like they were going to give out.

She was so _beautiful_.

Oliver spun around, sitting down, pulling her with him, tugging her legs around him so she was straddling his lap.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She hovered over him, settling over him, her face barely an inch from his… 

“Ooh…”

Felicity bit her lip, pleasure infusing her face as she pressed down against him.

God, she felt so _good_.

Oliver forced himself to take a breath, slowly moving his hands over her heated skin, over her hips and up her back, wanting to touch every bit of her, wanting to touch everything at the same time… especially when each brush earned him that delicious little gasp…

Felicity’s hips swirled over him, thrusting against him lightly. Oliver whispered her name, his hands falling to her ass, pushing her even closer.

“Ooh god,” she gasped, her head falling back, her hair long enough to brush his hands, his hands that he was slipping under the band of her panties. She shuddered, her nails digging into him as he grasped her ass cheeks tightly, his eyes glued to her face, glued to the pleasure he could see written all over her as he pulled her down with more force, making them both moan.

Oliver leaned forward, the tip of his nose slipping across her chest before he pressed a kiss right over her heart. He dragged his lips up her neck and back down, her hands sliding up his neck and across his scalp, making tight fists in his hair as he worked his way down to her bra. He pushed his tongue under the material, sliding it along the top of her breast, feeling her nipple hardening through the lace as they both thrust her hips down…

She was so damn warm, so hot, her skin flushed… Her breathing grew more rapid as her thighs tightened around his waist with a rushed, “Oliver,” before she reached up, sliding one of her straps off her shoulder. He didn’t waste a damn second - he nuzzled the cup out of the way, freeing her breast.

Her breath hitched, her fingers gripping his hair as Oliver wrapped his lips around her nipple, sliding one hand down to cover the breadth of her perfect ass to keep the pressure on both of them as his other moved up her back to hold her - to cradle her - as he leaned forward, forcing her backwards as he sucked her into his mouth.

“Oooh…!” Felicity cried out, her back arching, pushing her breast further into his mouth. Oliver ran his tongue around her before pushing her nipple up against the roof of his mouth, rubbing it back and forth in a rapid motion that made her buck in his arms, breathless cries falling from her lips followed by a desperate, “Yes… yes, yes…”

God, he wanted more, he wanted to hear so much more. He wanted to make her cry out his name again, make her scream, make her whimper…

Oliver pulled back, wrapping his arms around her again, holding her close. He picked her up and spun them, setting her down on the bed, blanketing her with his body, pushing her into the mattress. 

She pulled her legs up, cradling him between her thighs… 

She was pure _heat_ at her center, so hot and wet he could _feel_ her through her panties, and it made his dick swell even more. 

He groaned, fisting the comforter next to her head as he shoved himself between her legs, hiking his leg up for leverage.

“Oliver,” she whined, arching against him with more urgency.

Her hips met him stroke for stroke as he rubbed himself right… _there_.

She gasped so _beautifully_.

“Oh god, Felicity,” Oliver moaned. “You feel so good… so good…” He found her lips again, feeling nothing but her little hands all over him, her breathy pants, her nipple scraping against his chest, wanting to feel _more_ … god, he needed more, he wanted her everywhere.

Oliver’s hand slid down her body, touching everything he could in his path before he reached her panties. 

She whimpered, her body tightening around his.

He slid his fingers underneath them, moving his hips back just enough to slide them through her wetness.

“Oh god, oh god… yes…” she whimpered, arching into him.

His fingers slipped over her clit - she was so _wet_ , every inch of her slick with arousal, an arousal he could practically taste. He wanted to taste her, he wanted her to fill his mouth, he wanted to know… 

“Ooh… god… oh god, wait, wait…” Felicity breathed between kisses, pulling back and Oliver froze. He pulled his hand away but not out, his wet fingers pressed against her lower stomach as he pushed himself up on his elbow, looking down at her. She was breathing heavily, her eyes closed, her hands moving to cup his face. “Hang on… I just…”

“Are you okay?” he asked, licking his lips, staring at her. He frowned when she didn’t respond right away and he pulled his hand away, lifting more of his weight off her. “Felicity? Is this… okay, am I…”

“Yes,” she replied, grinning in such a way that it seemed like she couldn’t actually _believe_ this was happening, and god, could he relate. She took a deep breath, looking up at him. Felicity paused, the grin faltering for a second. He raised his eyebrows, waiting. “I just… I really want to take a shower.”

Oliver blinked. “What?”

“Oh… frakking _frak_ , this is going to sound so stupid, but…” Felicity closed her eyes, her hands falling to cover her face. She shook her head, her words muffled behind her hands. “I really don’t want to smell like a truck stop the first time I sleep with you. Not that… not that I’m saying there will be another… time, that’s not what I’m saying, I’m just… I stink.”

“You… what?” 

Oliver frowned… and then he laughed. Incredulously. Because she could be covered in _garbage_ and he’d find her just as damn irresistible as she was now. 

Felicity smacked his shoulder with a, “It’s not funny,” and he settled over her again, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead.

“Felicity, trust me,” he said, meeting her eyes. “You do not smell like a truck stop.” 

“And trust _me_ when I say yes I do,” Felicity replied, her hands grazing his shoulders. He thrust his body against hers slightly in response, pushing his shoulders closer to her, never wanting her to stop touching him. She gasped, her eyes meeting his and he smiled… but it didn’t deter her. “I feel like I’ve been rolling around on the bathroom floor of one at least.”

“Mm,” Oliver said, kissing her softly, chuckling against her lips. “You definitely do _not_ feel like you have been. You feel… very, very _good_.”

“You’re biased,” she whispered, smiling against him and he nodded, his nose bumping into hers with a quiet, “Maybe,” before he kissed her more fully. Felicity hummed, wrapping her arms around his neck, opening for him again and Oliver instinctively arched into her, pressing her back into the mattress, making her moan as he rubbed against her.

“Shower,” she managed and he nodded, cutting off the rest of her words with another kiss. “I need to shower… rain… and vodka and…” She gasped when he nipped at her bottom lip. “Cigarettes… it’s… gross… Oliver, I’m serious…”

“I know,” he whispered, nodding, his lips never leaving hers, his hands cradling her face, fingers tangling in her hair. “I’m just… _very_ unwilling to let you leave.”

Felicity giggled and it tugged at his heart, making him grin at how natural it sounded. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good…” he said, kissing her one more time… and then he rolled off her, flopping on the bed. 

Neither of them moved for a second, both catching their breath before he finally sat up, grabbing her hand, pulling her up with him. His boxers were pulled taut from his erection, but Oliver pushed his arm over it, finding it ridiculously easy to ignore it, to concentrate instead on the feeling of his hand in hers.

For once in his life, his dick and his head were in the same thinking space; it was like it completely understood what was happening, and the urgency he’d felt to be closer to her slowly faded, finding simple contentment in just holding her hand.

They sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers lacing with hers. 

She fixed her bra so it was covering her breast again, her shoulder rubbing against his.

Oliver watched her, still unable to believe that Felicity Smoak was in his room. 

And he’d just made out with her. 

It was amazing how that simple thought had butterflies filling his stomach.

“Felicity…” She looked at him. Oliver blinked, taking her in, before he said, his voice rough, “I’m glad you stayed.”

At first, a smile pulled at her lips… and then she really _looked_ at him, and the smile wavered.

Felicity stared, not responding. 

His thumb ghosted over her hand, making her fingers involuntarily squeeze his as she just… stared. 

Her eyes were clearing up, the lust slowly dissipating, filling instead with… something else, something he couldn’t name. She was suddenly looking at him like she didn’t recognize him, like she was seeing something she’d never seen before, and it was throwing her for more than a loop.

She opened her mouth to say something before changing her mind, her brow furrowing. 

He could _see_ the wheels turning in her head and he had no idea if that was good or bad.

Oliver fought the urge to fidget under her gaze.

"I'm… I’m confused," she suddenly whispered.

It took a second too long for the words to process, but the second they clicked, a wave of sharp, hot pricks skated across his palms.

Confused… she was confused, which meant… what?

"About what?" he asked, his fingers trembling slightly, his chest constricting in a violent combination of dread and anticipation at what she meant.

"This," she said, shaking her head slightly, waving her hand between them and his heart dropped. "This is… a lot, a lot… more than I… thought, I didn't realize this was…" She paused, her jaw moving with her unspoken thoughts. "Like _this_ , like…”

“This…” Oliver repeated, a lump growing in his throat.

“I thought that… this was going to be a one-time thing, I mean… I didn’t…” 

_A one-time thing_.

Right. A one-time thing. This wasn’t a _thing_. It wasn’t a thing where the two people sit and hold hands, just _being_. They weren’t that, they would never be that, because he’d fucked it up. And he _knew_ that.

And yet… 

_Say it, just say the fucking words._

_Damn it._

“Felicity.” 

Oliver closed his eyes for a second - he couldn’t look at her, he couldn’t see that she didn’t feel the same way, that he was being a complete and total jackass, that he was an asshole, a pathetic asshole who was in love with her and he had been since the second he’d first seen her.

He stared at their fingers where they were still intertwined. 

“This is more,” he said, his voice dropping low. He ran his thumb over hers, drawing strength from the steadiness in his hand, the steadiness he was drawing from her. “For me, I mean. I don’t want to just sleep with you, but I don’t want you to… I…”

He blew out a frustrated breath, a derisive chuckle slipping out.

Oliver closed his eyes.

“This can be whatever you want it to be, I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” He looked at her and her face was unreadable. “Whatever this… is for you, I’m… I know you don’t see me that way, which I really don’t blame you for.”

She didn’t say anything and Oliver wondered if she could feel how sweaty his palm felt.

“Whatever you want, Felicity, whatever you want this to be, I’m there, I’m all there. If you want this to be a one-time thing, I’m… okay. Okay.”

She didn’t move. 

She didn’t do anything. 

Oliver waited, and the longer he waited, the longer she sat there, unmoving, silent, the more the air felt like it was starting to attack him, the oxygen turning into hot little pinpricks that skidded over his skin in a wild rush, leaving him struggling for breath. 

Felicity blinked, swallowing, staring at him.

_Say something. Please._

She finally untangled her fingers from his and his heart sank. 

Oliver faltered, his eyes closing as he bowed his head.

_Smile, you idiot. Do something, say something. This is what you wanted: her. If she wants no strings attached, that’s what you’ll want._

But he wanted _more_.

He wanted more. He’d been flirting with the idea since the second she’d walked into the party, since long before that even - it’d gotten worse, over time, almost like the fact that he wasn’t near her, couldn’t see her or hear her, it made it worse, made the _longing_ worse - but now that he was sitting here, he realized he wanted it all.

He wanted to take her out, he wanted to tell her things, he wanted her to confide in him - he wanted to spend Sunday afternoons under a blanket, talking for hours; he wanted to carry her books through the park when he met her after class; he wanted to cook her breakfast, watch bad TV together, dance with her, kiss her when they were on the jumbotron at baseball games. He wanted to know her favorite animal at the zoo, what flavor ice cream she always kept in the freezer, and he wanted to hear her _babble_ , in that special Felicity way she did, about everything and anything. He wanted to meet her friends and family, he wanted to bring her home to meet Thea, he wanted to smell like her shampoo in the morning and he wanted to go to sleep every night, curled around her.

He wanted _her_.

Oliver slapped up a giant mental wall, preparing himself for anything. Part of him felt an intense sense of relief that he’d finally said the words, that he’d gotten it out there and now she knew, while the other side wanted him to ram his head into the wall because he’d have been better off not saying a damn thing - he’d probably just pushed her away, for good, by admitting that he was even more of an asshole than he already was, admitting he _liked_ her, that he wanted _more_ …

What the hell was the matter with him?

He was…

Felicity cupped his face and his heart jolted back to life as she forced him to look back at her.

She looked into his eyes, almost like she was searching for something, and just like that, the mental wall collapsed just as quickly as it’d gone up, and in the next second, he was baring everything to her.

He was a fucking _mess_.

He couldn’t think when it came to her. He forgot how to play the game, how to act the part, how to navigate these waters. He’d admitted his feelings to a girl before, but it hadn’t been this _terrifying_. Hell, he couldn’t even remember what he usually did around girls, especially girls he liked; it was like it all shut off around her, leaving nothing but… _him_.

And god, he hoped he was enough.

“Really?” Felicity asked, the word coming out in a breathy whisper, one that made his stomach trip all over itself. “Really?”

She held his face, looking into his eyes, her brow furrowing… like she didn’t _believe_ him.

Oliver’s hands slowly came up to cover hers, sliding his fingers between hers, his stubble scraping at his fingertips as he pressed her hands closer to him.

“Really,” he whispered.

He wanted to say more, he wanted to explain to her what had happened, how he felt, but all he was capable of was a nod. And what felt like a smile. His eyes danced all over her face, over the light spread of freckles, the smudged makeup, the little flecks of silver-edged gold in her irises, her swollen lips, the light beard burns on her chin…

“I _like_ you, Felicity,” he said, and her face softened. “A lot. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

“But… you…” She blinked rapidly, shaking her head, their fingers still interlaced against his cheeks. “Really?”

“Yes,” Oliver said, nodding, dropping his hands to wrap around her. He pushed his forehead against hers and she let out a heavy gush of air, shaking her head against his. “ _Yes_. I like you a lot.”

“Oh… wow,” she breathed.

“Do you…” Oliver started, the words coming out before he could stop them, and he paused as a surge of adrenaline sent his heart pumping too fast, so fast he felt his hands starting to shake. What a horribly stupid question - why was he _pushing it_?

But whatever masochistic reserve he had dwelling deep inside him, whatever it was that was pushing him… whatever it was that was having him bare his damn soul like he was urged him on, and he suddenly _had_ to know.

“Do you like me?”

Felicity inhaled quickly, a nervous chuckle sipping past her lips before she leaned back, still shaking her head. She pulled her hands back, scrubbing her face, taking another deep breath, this one sounding like her entire body was going to burst from tension.

Oliver watched her, his shoulders slowly sinking as he let his hands slip when she moved, letting them slip away from her.

She didn’t answer.

Oliver felt like someone had just scooped his insides out with a rusty spoon.

He closed his eyes, sliding his hands over his eyes. 

_Fuck_.

He’d just fucked it all up.

He wished he could go back to a few minutes ago, when she’d mentioned the shower. He should’ve just said, _‘Yep, okay, can I join you?’_ because _that_ would’ve gotten him a more positive response than _this_.

_Fuck._

He was on the verge of apologizing when Felicity suddenly laughed, the sound stark and uneven.

“This has been the weirdest night ever,” she said softly. The bed moved with the force of her turning to look at him. “I thought you hated me.”

“No,” he answered immediately, shaking his head. “I never hated you, Felicity. I…” 

The words died on his tongue. What? He what? Felicity stared at him, an emotion he couldn’t name painting her face.

_Fuck it._

“I’ve liked you since the first day I saw you,” Oliver said, staring at the floor, seeing that day as if it was happening in front of him all over again. “The first day of Diggle’s class. You walked in, wearing this pink blouse, looking so… _different_. There was something so different about you, you were… so _light_ , but serious at the same time, it was the weirdest combination.” He huffed. “It’s still the weirdest combination, how you manage to be both, like it’s the most effortless thing in the world…

“You sat in front of me, and you spent the entire time chewing on a…”

“Pen,” she supplied, barely audible.

“It was red.” 

Felicity blinked, staring at him before slowly nodding. “Yeah. It was. I loved that pen.”

“I remember the day it broke.”

“Oh, you mean the day I chewed right through it and got red ink all over everything.”

Oliver smiled, nodding, still staring at the ground, seeing that day just as clearly. She’d been wearing a yellow sundress when the pen had splattered all over her fingers. She’d made a face and immediately started wiping them on her notes before realizing what she was doing. With a tiny little “Eep,” that nobody had heard but him, she’d then wiped her hand on her dress, realizing too late that red and yellow don’t actually hide each other, leaving her covered in red ink smears.

“Yeah.”

It’d been two days before their project assignments, three days before he’d ruined it all, before anything had even begun.

“And then…” He closed his eyes for a long second before looking at her. “Felicity, those things I said to you, that wasn’t… I never meant to hurt you. I’ve done so much stupid crap, but that day, the way I talked to you, I wish all the time that I could go back and change it.”

“So why didn’t you?” Felicity asked. “You just… I really thought you hated me, or that _I_ had done something to push you away, that made you not like me. And we fought over _everything_.”

“I wanted to. I really wanted to, but every day you looked at me like I wasn’t… and I couldn’t blame you, so I just started being that guy, that guy you saw when you looked at me.” He stared at her. “I’m sorry. For everything, for… all of it.”

He meant it with every fiber of his being.

“Thank you,” Felicity finally said, her voice soft… and that was it.

The silence weighed on them both, filling the room with a heaviness he’d never felt before. He was suddenly _exhausted_. He’d been up for more than twenty-four hours, and then the party, and then she’d shown up… after the heated rush of finally being able to kiss her, to feel her, to know how it felt like to be wanted by her, it’d all crashed and burned, ending with him spewing his unrequited feelings everywhere.

Well, when Oliver Queen wanted to go down in flames, _he went down_.

So what now? He should offer to take her to her car, or have someone take her there, or… god, anything but sitting in the quiet like they were right then. He could _feel_ her eyes on him and he wanted the ground to open up right then and there and suck him right in.

“So…” Felicity said. “I’m going to take a shower.”

What?

Oliver looked at her, frowning. “What?”

“Shower,” she repeated. She waved at herself, making a face. “I’m still gross, that hasn’t changed. And I’m sure you feel really gross because if I got a bunch of beer all over me, I’m sure you did, and nobody likes stale beer. It tastes horrible, but smells so much worse.” She lifted some of her hair. “This is very ew right now.”

He could only blink. “You’re staying?”

“Is that…” Felicity’s eyes widened. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

“What?”

“Assumed. Made an ass out of me. And you, although I always skip the you, I don’t like calling people an ass unless they did something deserving of being called an ass… which, admittedly, you probably definitely fall in that category because, well… but…” Felicity sighed. “But those are thoughts for when I’m much less dead on my feet. And clean, I prefer being clean when I think about stuff that requires actual thinking. I can’t think when I’m dirty. And by dirty I mean actually dirty, not… dirty thoughts. I have clean thoughts, usually… sometimes, most of the time. Unless you count what just happened, but that was more dirty acts than dirty thoughts, and they were so much more preferable to… okay, I’m stopping in three, two, one…”

She took a deep breath, giving him barely two seconds to comprehend any of that, when she met his eyes again.

“Is it still okay if I stay?”

“Yes,” Oliver answered without an ounce of hesitation.

She was staying.

_She was staying._

His brain was too far gone to really compute that thought.

“Okay, good,” Felicity said. “Um, so I’ll… shower, and then you’ll shower, and we’ll… you wouldn’t happen to have an extra toothbrush I could maybe use?” She waved at her face. “This isn’t a situation anyone wants to be near, trust me on that. Not that I’m saying you have to be near it again, unless that’s… and I’m done talking.”

_Unless that’s…_

His mind automatically filled in the words, _‘… what you want.’_

He wanted to kiss her right then and there, he didn’t care what she tasted or smelled like. 

Oliver swallowed past the rush of blood roaring through his ears and looked away, nodding to the bathroom.

“There’s a closet in the bathroom,” he said. “With towels, and brushes, and… anything you’ll need.”

“Okay then, I’ll be…” 

Felicity stood up, and for the first time since they'd come in, he was once again very aware of the sun. 

It filled more of the room, slicing over his bed, making her skin look rosy and fucking perfect. 

Oliver’s eyes involuntarily dropped down the length of her body, a sudden flush burning across his chest at the memory of what she’d felt like pressed up against him. His body came back to life, desire shooting through him so fast and hard he was glad he was sitting down because standing was definitely going to be a problem. God, he was a pig… and despite that, his lips tingled at the memory of what she tasted like, his palms ached, remembering the soft brush of her skin under his touch, the sounds she’d made…

She moved to go to the bathroom and Oliver’s hand shot out, grabbing hers, stopping her in her tracks.

Her fingers naturally curled around his and he closed his eyes as he said, “Felicity, I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay, or like you… like this is something I…”

“Oliver,” she said, and his eyes snapped open, looking up at her to find a light smile on her lips. She cocked her head in a second of contemplation.

She looked entirely way too serene considering everything he'd just word vomited all over… who knew there'd come a day when he preferred actual vomit to speaking?

Felicity stepped towards him, interlacing her fingers with his again. His breath hitched as she used her free hand to cup his face, angling his head back even more so he could look up at her. She moved her fingers over his temple and across his brow, rubbing them down the bridge of his nose. 

“Stop thinking so much,” she whispered.

He didn’t know what that fucking meant.

“Felicity…” he sighed and she tapped his lips, stopping him again.

“I wouldn’t be staying if I didn’t want to," she said, her voice soft. "If I didn’t… if I hadn’t thought about wanting something… more.”

Oliver felt like the breath he let out had been yanked right out of him.

“You… you do? Even though I…" Oliver stared at her, mouth gaped. "I gave you every reason to hate me."

Felicity opened her mouth, and for the first time that night, Oliver finally saw a glimpse of doubt slice through her eyes. 

His throat closed up as her eyes dropped down to his mouth, her finger tracing over his lips for a second before she met his eyes again, and hers were brighter, so much brighter, the blue somehow _shining_ , her eyes crinkling with a smile.

"Stop thinking so much," she whispered again.

He _still_ didn't know what that fucking meant.

"But…"

She cut him off with a kiss. 

The words died on his tongue as she gripped his jaw, angling his head back, her lips so perfectly soft and amazing against his as she leaned forward, pushing herself between his legs. Oliver sighed, his heart _soaring_ , and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her flush against him. His hand slid up her back, his fingers sliding under her bra, digging in, keeping her close, _cradling_ her. Felicity moaned deep in her chest, her tongue darting out to slide along the seam of his lips.

Just as Oliver opened up for her, as he was about to give her everything and anything she asked for in that moment, she pulled back.

But she didn't go far. 

Felicity licked her lips, her nose bumping against his, her breathing labored. 

Oliver's body strained towards hers, wanting so badly to pull her down into his lap again, to feel her pressing against him, to hear her gorgeous voice over and over telling him she was staying, that she wanted to stay, despite everything he'd done and said. Despite it all, she was still there, with him.

_With him._

"Felicity," he breathed, his voice cracking and she took a quick breath, her chest inflating against him, pressing her breasts closer.

"I love how you say my name," she said, the words laced with a tentative grin, her hand slipping up his cheek and into his hair.

Oliver smiled, drawing her name out in a throaty whisper, "Felicity…"

This time she shivered, her fingers gripping his hair in a tight fist and he held her tighter, arching his back to press against her.

"Oh god," she whimpered, the beautiful sound making him shiver this time and she swayed into him… before she sighed. "I need a shower."

"You really don't," he replied, shaking his head, because she really didn't. But she just chuckled, biting her lower lip, and he knew she was set on it. Oliver groaned, almost pouting, before he pulled back to look up at her. "Okay."

"You could…" Felicity paused, more of her lip disappearing into her mouth before she said, "You could join me."

The words slammed into him, immediately followed by the image of her standing in his shower, naked, gloriously naked, hair wet, water cascading down her body, rivulets sliding between her breasts, over her dusky pink nipples and down her body… Oliver barely bit back the groan at how damn hard he suddenly was because _god_ , he wanted to say yes. He wondered what exactly she saw on his face, but whatever it was made her mouth open in a pant, her eyes darken, her lids grow heavy.

"That's not a good idea," he croaked, making a pained face as he laughed. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I… I do not trust myself."

"We wouldn't just be getting clean, Oliver," she whispered.

This time Oliver did groan and he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, as deep as he could, forcing his body to _calm the fuck down_ before he looked up at her again.

"I want to do this the right way," he said. "I… I want to…"

"Oliver," she said, cutting him off with her finger across his lips. "You're thinking too much again."

He gave her a breathy chuckle, grinning under her finger. "Maybe. But as much as I really… _really_ want to go in there with you, I also really don't want to fuck this up more than I already have."

"You haven't fucked this up," she said.

"No?"

Felicity shook her head. "No. And you're actually…" She stopped herself, and Oliver frowned up at her, wondering what she'd been about to say. Instead, she shook her head slightly and stepped back, her fingers dropping to his chin again, the intimate sound of his beard scraping her fingers echoing in his ear. "Alright. I'm taking a shower."

"Okay," he said, smiling, and she returned it… before finally stepped back more, forcing his hands to drop. 

She backed up a few paces, her eyes never leaving his before she smiled, and finally turned away. He watched her go, watched the sway of her hips, the curve of her ass under those panties, his fingers aching at the memory of what she'd felt like when she'd been on top of him. When she reached the doorway, she glanced back and he could see the blush from where he was sitting overtake her. 

He grinned - _was this really happening?_ \- before she ducked her head with a soft smile and darted into the bathroom.

A few seconds later he heard the water coming on and only when he heard the shower rings being pulled back - she was _naked_ in there, and the image of her in the shower rose unbidden before he squashed it - did he let himself take a breath. And another. And then another.

He was… god, he didn't even know. He couldn’t _think_ , much less take a moment to fully comprehend that this was actually happening. Listening to the water splashing against the tub floor as she moved, cleaning herself - using his shampoo and his soap - he finally stood. His boxers were _tight_ , damn tight, but he ignored it, and it was surprisingly easy to do.

Oliver got up, rolling his index finger up along his thumb in a nervous tic. What now?

He made up the bed, turning the sheets down. He cleaned up his desk, he picked up a few clothes scattered around, he closed the curtains before changing his mind, wondering if that was too much, _too_ intimate - maybe he should keep them open? But then the sun was really starting to rise, and it was warming the room, slanting right over the bed, so no, he was going to have a hard enough time sleeping with Felicity in the same vicinity much less the same bed, he didn’t need the damn sun in his face.

He closed them again.

And opened them one more time… before rolling his eyes at himself and closing them.

Just as he was adjusting them for maximum sun coverage, the bathroom door opened.

Oliver turned as Felicity came out, and his mouth went dry. She had a giant white fluffy towel wrapped around her chest, her face and skin scrubbed so clean she was practically glowing, her wet hair swept to the side… oh _god_ , she was beautiful, and holy _shit_ , this was really happening.

Felicity Smoak was standing in his bedroom, wearing a towel, fresh from a shower, looking at him like…

The heat in her eyes was still there, although now it was tempered with a hesitancy that hadn’t been there before, a hesitancy that matched his own… still, the way she looked at him, it was a miracle his boxers didn’t rip right open.

“Hi,” he breathed.

“Hi,” she replied, her eyes flying around the room, like she was taking note of everything he’d changed, and he felt himself blushing before he could stop it. He was acting _ridiculous_. “Do you have anything I can wear?”

“Uh…”

His mind blanked.

Felicity was going to wear his clothes.

_Felicity was going to wear his clothes._

“Y-yeah,” Oliver said, pointing to the closet, the door she’d almost walked through the first time she’d come into his room, when she’d thought it was the bathroom, when he’d thought her being flustered was just from being stranded in a house of strangers with the one guy she couldn’t stand. 

That suddenly felt like a million years ago.

“You can pick anything you want,” he said, taking a halting step towards her before stopping himself. What was he going to do, help her pick something out? 

Felicity gave him a smile and quiet, “Okay…” and turned to the closet. 

His eyes were glued to her as she opened the door, switching the light on, stepping in. She looked so pure and natural wearing the towel, emphasized because he knew she was naked underneath it, because she’d spent the last ten minutes scrubbing her skin clean, erasing the remnants of the storm, of the party, of everything, leaving nothing but _Felicity_. 

As she disappeared into the large walk-in closet, Oliver suddenly felt grimy as hell. He was overly aware of the fact that he’d been wearing these boxers since yesterday morning, that he hadn’t showered since the night before that, that he had had more booze spilled on him than he thought was humanly possible. His skin was sticky with sweat and alcohol, stale cigarettes and mixed perfumes…

He needed a shower. There was no way in hell he was getting into bed with her like this.

Into bed.

_With her._

Oliver took a shaky breath, blowing it out.

He wanted to be clean and fresh, just like she was. It was almost symbolic, in a weird way, both of them cleaning up before… before what? What did he think was going to happen? He couldn’t let his mind stray past just sleeping - as in eyes closed, resting sort of sleeping, nothing else - because it was too much.

She was _in_ , it really seemed like she was in. She was still there, she’d definitely insinuated that this was more for her too - the thought alone made his chest feel like it was going to implode - and damn it, he wanted to do this _right_. 

And that started with him getting cleaned up.

_Baby steps._

Oliver’s knees were made of wood as he made his way around the bed and towards the bathroom. The closet door was halfway open, the light shining out from it and if he just… Oliver stole a glance before he could stop himself, and the second he saw her, he froze.

Felicity was pulling a shirt from a hanger - he couldn’t see which one, he kind of almost didn’t _care_ , because as the hanger bounced back up, she let her towel go…

And it fell to the ground in a beautiful white heap at her feet, leaving her entire backside open to his perusal.

Oliver’s entire body jerked as she lifted the shirt, her back moving with her soft movements, her feet shuffling, her stunning, shapely legs leading up to her perfectly rounded ass. The light was low in the closet, startling intimate, and it made her look like something out of a dream.

She _was_ out of a dream.

_His._

A breathy whimper escaped him and the second he heard it, he instantly turned away from her and in the next breath he was in the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, moving on autopilot as he swept through the remaining steam from her bathroom - _she’d just been in there, she’d stood in this very spot, she’d been naked in his bathroom, taking a shower_ \- and turned the water on.

He didn’t waste a second, shoving his boxers down, letting his painfully hard dick pop free as he kicked them into the corner. He grabbed the shower curtain, noticing her clothes were still folded up neatly, her shoes next to them with her purse, and her dainty underwear tucked into her pants. 

She was naked out there, in his room.

Wearing only his shirt.

His chest lurched.

“Pull your shit together, Queen,” Oliver breathed, feeling the sway of his erection as he stepped into the shower. “Be cool, just be cool. You’re being fucking ridiculous.”

The more he told himself that, the faster his heart thrummed… because he was being ridiculous, but he had a damn reason for being ridiculous.

His movements were sharp and brief, going through the motions, washing his hair and his face, soaping up his body. The water cascaded over his sensitive skin as his hands brushed over his chest and down his stomach.

His cock twitched.

His mind involuntarily thought back to her standing in the closet. He tried to step back, to thinking of something else - of _anything_ else - but damn it, he’d been hard the second he’d seen her stepping out of the bathroom wearing nothing but her slim panties and that bra that made her breasts look so damn _amazing_. She was lithe, the way she’d moved through the party all night, her gentle muscle tone hinting at strength while still maintaining a softness to her, a softness he wanted nothing more than to curl up against forever. She was so graceful and aware of herself, even when she ran into people, or when she’d bumped into a lamp… when she’d kissed him in the hallway, when he’d finally - _finally¬_ \- been able to press himself against the heat between her legs.

Without even thinking, Oliver wrapped his hand around himself, shuddering bodily. He was so _sensitive_ ; he’d been so eager, so needy all night, and then he’d finally gotten her… but it wasn’t just the heaven that waited for him with her body, it was so much more.

It was the soft noises she’d made, the way she kissed him, her steady gaze when he’d spilled his guts about how he felt… it was her little touches, how her hand felt in his, her shoulder brushing against him…

The lines of her back as she’d moved to put on his shirt - she was wearing _his_ shirt…

Oliver groaned mindlessly, his hand moving with a life of its own, his fist squeezing rhythmically, his wrist twisting as he concentrated on how she’d looked in the closet. Everything about her was so… so _perfect_ , so gorgeous, so good… 

His mind latched onto the image of her back, like it was most sensual damn thing he’d ever seen in his life…

His hand moved faster, the soap making everything slick, the water so warm…

It didn’t take long.

He’d been on edge for most of the night, responding just as much to her beautiful body as the look on her face when he’d told her how he felt, the breathy sound of her voice when she’d whispered, _“Really?”_ and the swirl of emotion in her eyes when she’d looked right at him, asking him if it was still okay if she stayed…

_With him._

Now that he was finally getting a second, the night catching up with him in a heady rush as he gripped himself tighter, the only thing that mattered was _pleasure_.

And _her_.

In his mind’s eye, Oliver watched her back moving, the muscles in her thighs rippling, her ass shaking just enough to make his mouth water… he didn’t have the state of mind to wonder why her _back_ was so damn sexy, why he could stare at her back and pleasure himself like he was, how he could find the way her spine curved so incredibly sensual… the arch of her neck, those little dimples on her lower back…

“Oh god,” he whined, his hand moving faster, squeezing _harder_.

Oliver came with a flash of white against his lids, the burn in his lower spine exploding with a burst of pleasure that had him moaning her name so loudly he had to bite his tongue. He spurted all over the shower floor, the water instantly washing it away as he continued rubbing until there was nothing left.

Oliver slumped against the wall, his breathing labored, his lungs burning with the exertion of forcing himself to _not_ breathe so damn hard. His arm burned a little and his lids were heavy with exhaustion and satiation… _satisfaction_. He wanted to feel like shit because he’d just hidden in the shower and jerked off to the thought of Felicity’s _back_ , of all the damn things, but he didn’t. 

He laughed, letting his head hit the tile. He’d never had to do this with a girl in his bed before. He’d never _wanted_ to do this before, he’d never been this close to feeling the need to hold off, to keep himself away from someone like he did with Felicity.

The edge… the edge was definitely gone, and for the first time in a few hours, Oliver felt like he could take a deep breath and not feel like the air was trying to choke him.

With a tired sigh, Oliver finished his shower and got out. He barely glanced in the steamed-over mirror, instead drying off as much as he had the energy for before he wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door.

She’d turned a light on, one of the nightstand lamps. It barely had enough power to light the bed, much less the room, but he didn’t need it as he made his way to the closet, his eyes on her. She was lying on the other side - not _his_ side, like she’d known which was which - facing away from him, curled up on her side under the comforter.

He paused before entering the closet, staring at her. She was wearing one of his flannels, the long-sleeved blue one, the large shirt moving with her deep, even breaths, telling him if she wasn’t already asleep she was well on her way - and god, the fact that she was _comfortable_ enough in his bed to fall asleep like that, comfortable enough with him?

The thought alone was euphoric.

His body twitched, but it didn’t have the dire edge of need radiating along his nerves, and Oliver forced himself into the closet, closing the door behind him before switching the light on. He dropped his towel - she’d hung hers up on a hanger, and the sight of it made him smile, his chest aching at the sight. 

It was so oddly domestic.

_Intimate._

Slipping on a pair of fresh boxers, Oliver shut the light off and darted into the bathroom again, brushing his teeth - her toothbrush, a bright green one, was set out neatly next to the cup that held his. He almost grabbed it and deposited in the cup with his before stopping himself. He gargled a mouthful of mouthwash and then he was turning the light off, heading to the bed.

She hadn’t budged an inch.

Oliver switched the light off, pulling the comforter back. The sun was barely visible through the heavy curtains, casting the room in a wash of darkness. He climbed into bed, the mattress moving with him…

Felicity didn’t give him a second to get comfortable. She was already moving, turning around, pushing closer to him through the sea of sheets and blanket. Oliver froze, letting her do whatever she wanted - if he had to lie like that for the rest of the day, he didn’t care; as long as she was comfortable, he’d do _whatever_.

The instant her hand found his chest she made a little noise, scooting closer. Oliver settled back against the pillows, lifting his arm instinctively, and she took the invitation, sliding right into his embrace with a sleepy sigh.

When they were both settled, it was with his arms wrapped around her where she laid using his shoulder as a pillow, one arm curled against her chest, the other thrown over him, one of her very naked legs coming up to slip between his. He felt the dull stab of arousal - he had a feeling it was always going to be there whenever he was around her, no matter what - but he was too tired to do anything about it.

Oliver moved, pushing his face against the crown of her head. He pressed a soft kiss before inhaling - she smelled like _him_. His shampoo, his soap. He smiled, nuzzling his face into her still-wet hair.

“Sorry if I drool on you,” she whispered, her words coming out in a tired slur.

He laughed, shaking his head. “I really don’t mind.”

“Mm,” Felicity said, stretching slightly before snuggling closer. “You say that now.”

He chuckled, keeping his face pressed to her. “Goodnight, Felicity.”

“Goodnight,” she replied, her voice fading.

After a second, after her body grew heavier, her breaths deeper and more even, her leg falling limp over him, Oliver whispered a barely audible, “Thank you,” before sleep took over.

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, for _real_ this time, only one more part planned. Who knows how long it will get, since this one just did what it wanted.
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity wakes up to a whole new world.
> 
> (Includes a dialogue prompt from Es/simplyfragile: "I never saw you coming and I'll never be the same.")

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know on my last update ( _a year and a half ago oh my_ ) that I said there was only one part left. I lied. Again. I started chipping away at this fic a few weeks ago to keep my writing bug going during the last few episodes of Season 5 and then HVFF London happened and then I was spiraling in Olicity happiness and all of that went into finishing this fic.
> 
> There will be four more parts! They're all drafted, and I will be updating Wednesdays and Saturdays until it's finished.
> 
> Every single comment and kudos and bookmark on this fic has meant _the world_ to me. Thank you so much for the support and excitement! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!
> 
> My eternal gratitude to my amazing beta Margaret. She's _the best_.

A thin slice of consciousness slowly woke her.

The bed was soft where it cradled her, conforming to her every inch. And it was _warm_ , like it was made specifically to retain just the right amount of heat. Felicity hummed under her breath. It was perfect and she didn’t want to move. She shifted her feet, enjoying the soft sheets against her toes, reveling in her bed cocoon. She loved mornings like this, when she didn’t have to get up, when she could stay tucked in for as long as she wanted.

She was vaguely aware that she’d kicked her comforter off at some point, but she wasn’t cold in the least… although she was tangled in something. _Her shirt_. It was twisted around her in an awkward bunch right under her ribs, making it uncomfortably tight in the shoulders. Usually that bothered her so much she had to sit up and unwind it, but the idea of moving was just unacceptable. She was too lazy to do anything but scoot closer to him.

Him?

A bolt of awareness cut through her chest and with a sharp inhale, Felicity awoke. Her eyes were dry and sticky where her contacts stuck to her lids and she blinked rapidly, waiting for the world to right itself.

When it finally did, she stopped breathing.

She was pressed right up against a bare chest, a very warm, very naked chest. A chest she was currently drooling on.

The reality of where she was hit her and her heart jumped to life.

“ _Oh_ …” Felicity breathed, a fine tremble lacing her voice, “my god.”

She was in bed with him, _cuddling_ with him. Her thoughts raced too fast for her to catch, all of them circling back to the fact that she was smashed up against Oliver Queen and she was _drooling on him._ She’d warned him, because she drooled all over the place, especially when she drank. Usually she was self-conscious enough about it that she strategically positioned herself to avoid this exact thing, but ha, not last night. Because of vodka and traumatizing mile-long hikes in the rain and nakedness and _almost having sex_.

And now she was in his bed, and not just in his bed, but in his arms.

She was in Oliver Queen’s arms.

_Okay, this is fine, this is totally fine._

Felicity took a steadying breath. As if her actions were somehow tied to the man in bed with her, he slowly inhaled, his chest expanding, pressing into hers. She froze, her lungs seizing when his soft exhale made her hair dance. And then he groaned, deep in his chest, and she felt it in hers. Her eyes fluttered shut. A blush crawled up her chest at the intimacy of it, but that was nothing compared to when he pressed himself closer.

She felt _him_ , right against her stomach.

He wasn’t hard, not like last night, but it was still enough to have her body responding, especially when it twitched against her, _reacting_ to her. It was erotic in a way that too her breath away, and before she could comprehend what was happening, a surge of warmth pooled between her legs. Her hips moved of their own accord, arching towards him.

 _Oh god_.

Felicity forced herself to go still.

Because she didn’t want to wake him. Right, that was it. It wasn’t because she wanted to keep moving against him - _god, she really, really did_ \- or because she was a little afraid if she did she’d do something dramatic like push herself on top of him. It was because she didn’t know how to feel about this, and she didn’t know exactly what she wanted to do just yet.

Except… she knew _exactly_ what she wanted to do.

_Felicity’s hips rolled against his where she straddled him on his bed, a desperate pant falling from her lips as she ground herself down on him. Oliver whispered her name, and the sound of it made her shiver - god, the way he said her name. He drew it out, tasting each syllable, taking his time._

_His hands fell to her ass, pushing her closer._

_“Oh god,” she gasped, her head falling back. He slipped his fingers under the band of her panties, grasping her ass cheeks tight. She shuddered, holding onto him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he pulled her hips down with her even more force, right against the hard ridge in his boxers, making them both moan._

She clenched her thighs together, a muffled moan building deep in her chest, her toes curling.

Felicity had been ready to climb him like a tree. She’d finally given into it, whatever _it_ was. The plan was that ‘it’ meant that she was just another girl, another notch in his bedpost. _That_ was the Oliver Queen she knew and could handle. That made it okay to sleep with the one guy who drove her absolutely insane, and the heavy doses of Vodka Fuel in her system had wholeheartedly agreed. It would be so easy to write off… which meant she could have a moment, a single moment in his arms, and then later tell herself it’d been nothing.

Until he’d turned everything upside down.

_“I like you, Felicity.”_

She heard his voice as if he were speaking the words all over again and her throat closed, just like it had the night before.

_“A lot. I’ve liked you for a long time.”_

Her first thought had been, _‘No, you don’t.’_ Because he didn’t. He couldn’t, not after the way he’d dismissed her.

His Jekyll and Hyde impersonation had been all she needed to know that Oliver Queen used people. She was just a skirt in his class, an easy target, someone to talk to, to pass the time with. But the second he didn’t need her anymore, he _changed_. In the space of five minutes, he took all the hours of fun class time they’d shared and demolished them without an ounce of hesitation. Felicity thought there’d been more to it, that he wasn’t like that. She’d heard the things people said about him, but that wasn’t the guy she knew, the guy he’d shown her. But she’d been wrong. She got the charm when he needed something from her, and the second it was inconvenient for him, he became cold, _harsh_ …

_“You got assigned to me just as much as I got assigned to you, it’s not a big deal.”_

Old hurt carved through her.

To say it’d left her head spinning was an understatement. And to make matters worse, he never apologized. There were moments when she thought she saw the old Oliver, but he was gone in the next second. He didn’t try to do anything - try to _explain_ anything. He did nothing but talk about their project. He acted like nothing had happened and that stung more than his actual words.

It only got worse as time went on. He’d chosen his path and he had _committed._

To this day, it was still one of the worst partner experiences of her life. They had argued about the stupidest things, from which program to use for their presentation to the font size on the cover sheet of their report. He fit right into the jerk mold he created for himself and as time went on, she’d slipped into the same role, giving it back as good as she got. It finally came to a head on the day of their presentation when he pulled up the wrong slide and she whispered, _“Can you get at least one frakking thing right?”_ He’d heard it, instantly retorting with, _“I think if you finally removed that giant stick from your ass, this entire thing would go a helluva lot smoother.”_

In any other class, the small whispered fight that ensued would have gotten them a failing grade, but Diggle had loved it, even going so far as to write a note about how partner chemistry could make any presentation sparkle.

That had only cemented her decision to ask to never be paired with Oliver Queen again.

She barely saw him again after that.

That is, until the Fates sent her careening into his naked party, in the middle of _nowhere_.

It would have all been fine, if she hadn’t seen him for the rest of the night.

Her plan had been to stick the weather out and then grab her clothes and make a mad dash for it, except… except something had been different. _He’d_ been different and it’d left her reeling. At first she thought it was nerves, and then she thought it was the alcohol, but then it didn’t go away. She felt it when their arms brushed in passing, in the way his eyes darkened when his gaze caught hers, when the light blue turned stormy with something she couldn’t read, in how he’d caged himself around her in the heavy crowd of people, not invading her space, but protecting it. Her awareness of him absolutely skyrocketed, her stomach swooped whenever she looked at him, and a trail of excitement skittered down her spine at the thought of him looking at her.

It’d confused the hell out of her, because this was Oliver Queen, the one man she told herself she’d never interact with again…

She did her best to ignore it - to ignore _him_ \- and it’d worked, mostly. Until he gave her the key to his room.

All the strange feelings she’d been battling all night roared to life and the voice she’d been avoiding in the back of her mind whispered two words that were her undoing.

_One night._

She could have one night with him. She’d let herself have this one thing, and then no more.

But then he remembered the color of the pen she’d always chewed on, and the pink blouse she’d worn the first day of class, and the awful day her pen had cracked leaving her covered in red smears.

_“Do you… do you like me?”_

He’d been so tentative, so nervous…

_So real_.

Felicity bit the tip of her tongue, nerves flooding her stomach because _yes_. Yes, she liked him, and she _had_ liked him, even before, despite the way he treated her, something that’d made her so damn mad. _Why him_? Why did her heart leap whenever she was around him? Why did her fingers tingle and her lungs forget how to move whenever his arm brushed hers. It wasn’t _fair_ , and she hated that she’d let herself fall for someone who clearly - _clearly_ \- didn’t like her in any way, shape or form…

Except apparently he did and without the comfy vodka haze or pure lust blurring her vision, she had no idea what she was supposed to do with that knowledge, or how she was supposed to feel.

Oliver had feelings for her.

And it was starting to really, _really_ freak her out.

Oh god, this was way too much for a Sunday morning.

His soft snore pulled her back to the fact that she was still currently in bed with the man who’d haunted her dreams - both good and bad. Willing her racing heart to slow down, Felicity took stock. She vaguely remembered falling into his bed after her shower, exhaustion pulling her under immediately. Without the rush of arousal and excitement fueling her, she’d been left with nothing but the overwhelming urge to sleep. And then Oliver had climbed in, and… and she’d turned around like it was the most natural thing in the world and climbed right into his arms.

Well, vodka and sleep deprivation would do that.

Oliver was wound around her as tightly as he possibly could be. His chin rested on her head, his soft breaths ruffling her messy hair. One hand rested limply against her neck, the other having slipped under her shirt at some point - _right_ , she was _naked_ under there - where his fingers were curled in against her lower back. One of his legs was pushed between hers, their feet tangled… and Felicity was cuddled in against him just as much, holding onto him just as tightly.

He was holding her close, almost cradling her, like he’d created a cocoon just for her…

Like she was something precious to him.

God, what was happening?

She had no idea what she was going to do. She had no idea how she was supposed to feel right now. Because she did like him, a lot. Too much. Which was why she’d been okay with last night being a one-time thing, because that was _safe_. She could handle that, she could work with that.

But what if what he’d said last night was true? What did that mean, for her? For them? But god, what if it _wasn’t_ more? What if he’d been using a line on her, trying to get her into bed? The logic wasn’t lining up, but he’d burned her before and the idea of trusting what was happening made her physically cringe. What if this was a game, a way to toy with her?

But to what end? Hell, she’d been ready to go, inviting him into the shower. Considering how she’d plastered herself to him last night, she wouldn’t have stopped him if he’d picked up right where they left off.

Except he hadn’t.

He’d left it all up to her.

_“Whatever you want, Felicity, whatever you want this to be, I’m there, I’m all there. If you want this to be a one-time thing, I’m… okay. Okay.”_

The press of her bladder was distracting enough to pull her out of the mini-spiral she found herself in. That was good. Maybe once she was away from him - away from the amazing feeling of being in his arms, of being wrapped up like this, like she really did mean something to him - then she could think.

Felicity nodded to herself.

Yes, good, that was a good plan. A good start.

Now she just had to actually _move_.

Licking her lips, Felicity slowly untangled from him.

Oliver instantly tightened his hold on her, and she froze with a breathless, _“Oh.”_ He pulled her even closer, sending her heart into overdrive as he hugged her, stretching his entire body against hers, inhaling deeply. She felt every single inch of him and heated awareness washed over her. It was _intoxicating_ and she found herself responding, pushing herself closer, giving into whatever was happening.

_What was she doing?_

Her body was on one page, her mind on another and her heart… her heart was racing, stampeding through her ears as a lump clogged her throat…

Oliver pressed his mouth to the crown of her head with a sleepy, “You okay?”

The tender intimacy in his voice and actions was staggering. Warmth blossomed in her chest and Felicity suddenly wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and cuddle back up against him, to shove her very real questions away and live in a denial bubble where she could pretend that maybe, just maybe, this was everything she thought it was.

It would be so _easy_.

“I’m… I-I’m fine,” Felicity whispered, wincing at how awkward she sounded. He did seem to notice. “Dandy. Just dandy.”

Oliver simply sighed, holding her tighter, and the urge to stay there settled over her again. Felicity moved and Oliver groaned in soft disagreement, but she didn’t stop and this time he relented.

The second he loosened his hold on her, Felicity slid across the bed as fast and silent as she could. She didn’t give herself a second to pause, to look at him, to _think_ about what was happening. Instead the instant her feet hit the ground, she darted to the bathroom. Felicity didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she closed the bathroom door behind her. It was only when she heard the click of the lock that she let it out in a giant whoosh.

“Oh…” she managed, shoving her forehead into the wood, sagging against it, taking a deep breath. She tried to speak, to start the whole sorting out business, but that was the only word she seemed to now. “Oh.”

She was absolutely and positively _freaking out_.

Felicity wiped her face, blushing in mortification at the drool drying on her cheek. And she was _shaking_ , her fingers trembling, her entire body feeling off-kilter. And she was confused, very confused.

And she had to _pee_.

Well, at least one of those things she could handle right now before facing all of…

_That_.

Felicity moved to the toilet, scrubbing her face until her skin burned. Pee first, then freak out. No, pee first and pray that she had her glasses because her contacts were killing her eyes. It felt good to focus on something simple and she grabbed her purse, mentally crossing her fingers and toes that she’d thought to shove her glasses into it. They were there, and she let out a triumphant little sound, throwing her fist in the air.

She did her business and took her time to remove her contacts, throwing them away before rubbing her eyes until she saw stars. Bursts of light were still present when she put her glasses on, and she blinked them away, taking a very long time to make sure they were gone. She wasn’t sure how long she stood in the center of the bathroom, staring absently at the floor, her mind trying to connect last night with this moment.

Nope, it didn’t connect. It didn’t make sense.

She didn’t move until her feet started aching from inactivity.

With a sigh, she turned to the sink, turning the water on.

It was only when she was washing her hands that she finally looked in the mirror.

Felicity blinked.

Usually when she woke up she looked like someone had taken a whole tree of ugly sticks and bashed her over the head with it. A full course load and a part-time job and trying to get into that new program didn’t leave a lot of time for sleeping, which meant she usually had dark circles and red-laced eyes that took massive amounts of time to correct before she was presentable for public consumption.

She looked _nothing_ like that today.

Her hair had dried in a wild mess, but it was bright and shiny, flowing around her face in loose waves. Her face was flushed, her skin luminous, and she looked…

She looked _pretty_. Like really pretty. And rested. _She was glowing_. She had light pink burn marks around her forehead and on her cheeks from Oliver’s beard, and while they hadn’t kissed in hours, her lips were still swollen, plump…

_Used_.

And she liked it.

“Whoa,” she whispered.

Felicity licked her lips, her eyes drifting down, taking herself in.

The flannel was huge on her - it easily reached mid-thigh and she’d only done up half the buttons in the middle last night, leaving the shirt splitting open on both ends. If she moved just right, anyone would be able to see she was naked underneath. She was naked in Oliver’s bathroom, in his shirt, wearing the literal remnants of their night together. She pushed the sleeves up her arms where they were rolled multiple times, sitting in bulky messes around her elbows. The shirt - _his shirt_ \- was soft and well-worn. That was part of why she’d chosen it, because it felt like he wore it a lot.

A thrill shot through her and she was suddenly seeing herself differently, noting the way his shirt conformed to her soft curves. She pressed her hands to her stomach, smoothing them over her abdomen, grazing the underside of her breasts before slipping down to her hips.

She was naked in his shirt after waking up in his arms.

After specifically not having sex.

Felicity met her own gaze again, startled all over again by her own appearance. She’d never looked so…

_Happy?_

A flash of green caught her eye and she looked down to see the toothbrush she’d used last night in the cup with his. They sat side-by-side, the bristles touching, and…

It didn’t freak her out.

Her life was suddenly so very different this morning. And she liked it. Was that why she was freaking out? _Yes_. Because it meant at some point last night she’d heard him and she’d accepted his words, which was why she’d crawled into his arms, why she’d fallen asleep with him, why she’d woken up curled around him, reveling in the warmth of his embrace. Because she _liked_ him, and he liked her, and some part of her clearly _believed_ him, and that was…

“Oh wow,” Felicity breathed.

In a weird way, she kind of wanted both - to run and to stay. But… she wanted to stay more. A deep yearning pulled at her core and she covered her stomach, trying to soothe the feeling. Felicity thought putting distance between them would make it easier, but all of a sudden it just made her want to go back out there. She wanted to climb into his arms and go back to sleep. She wanted to crawl over him and pick up where they’d left off last night. She wanted to feel him all around her again. She wanted to kiss him and give herself over to his touch.

The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach? That wasn’t _all_ fear. She _missed_ him. Not her former class partner, but the man he’d shown her last night. It was baffling just how much the need to go back out there filled her, urging her back to him.

But _what if_? He’d hurt her before, and god, that was _nothing_ compared to the possibility of opening herself to an actual relationship.

She opened the door.

Her eyes instantly found him. He’d turned so he was facing the bathroom, his arms shoved under the pillow, his body angled towards her. He was still sound asleep. She had no idea what time it was, but even through the closed curtains she could tell the sun was high in the sky, hints of sunshine casting the room in a dusky glow. He’d tugged the comforter back up over him, and it was draped haphazardly across his middle, showing his strong, lean back. It was a sharp contrast to the deep slumber softening his face.

He was beautiful.

Felicity’s feet moved of their own volition, carrying her towards him. She paused at the foot of the bed. She didn’t get in, but she wanted to. God, she wanted to. Considering she’d literally ran away from him a moment ago, it was amazing how much she wanted to jump right back in there. She wanted to slip under the covers with him and wrap her arms around his waist as she pressed her face into his back. Her lips were already forming the kiss she’d press to his shoulder blade, a smile forming as she imagined his soft inhale as he woke up…

But the _what if_ lingered.

She was suddenly vividly aware of the two very different paths before her. She could leave, and maybe never see him again, or she could…

Felicity shifted, her mind jumping to all the hundreds of ways this could go _horribly_ for her when something crinkled under her foot. She glanced down.

A crumpled piece of orange wax paper was on the floor, half-covered by the comforter where it dangled off the edge of the bed. It looked like it was usually folded, the edges faded and well-worn. Her mind flashed to last night, her heart climbing into her throat, remembering him sitting on the edge of the bed after she got out of the bathroom.

He’d been looking at something in his hand, just before the power went out.

Felicity bit her lip and glanced at Oliver. He was still asleep, his breathing deep and even, completely unaware of his surroundings.

She picked it up, turning it over.

Her heart stopped. Her lungs stopped. Everything stopped.

Felicity’s eyes darted to Oliver \- _he’d kept this?_ \- before darting back to the paper. She stared at the shabby paper, at the faded words. She ran her thumb over it, marveling at how soft it was, like someone held it often.

She didn’t know she was moving until she found herself sitting down on her side of the bed, one leg curled underneath her.

Her eyes never left the paper.

It was a wrapper from some hokey horoscope gum her mom had sent her from Vegas, each piece representing a zodiac sign. Despite herself and the corny illogical madness that was horoscopes in general, Felicity loved the gum. It was always tarty, and she loved that you never knew what you were going to get until the gum was unwrapped. It wasn’t the thrill of the surprise so much as wanting to unearth all the pieces so she could see the entire gameboard.

During one of their first encounters she’d unwrapped a Taurus horoscope, and it’d been completely random when she’d turned to the person behind her and asked, _“When’s your birthday?”_

_He frowned, not following. Which made sense, considering she barely knew him and she was asking something both totally random and kind of personal. When she didn’t immediately elaborate, he asked, “Excuse me?”_

_Felicity was in too good of a mood to be deterred. “Your birthday,” she repeated._

_“Uh… May 16.”_

_“Perfect!” Felicity smiled, handing him the wrapper. “Have a horoscope.”_

The wrapper wasn’t meant to last a few days, much less years, but she could still read the words on the mulchy paper:

_‘Your world is changing, Taurus, or is it just your perception of it?’_

He’d kept it, all this time. He’d had it all through class, through their project, through the last several months.

Felicity was vaguely aware of the bed moving underneath her. The sound of Oliver shifting over the sheets reached her ears as he woke up. She wanted to turn around face him, to ask him questions, but all words escaped her.

She just stared at the paper.

His hand landed on her waist. It was warm and strong, his touch a little tentative, testing the waters of the unknown.

It was a miracle she didn’t jump, something she was pretty sure she would have done had she not been so distracted. Her heart did jump, though, at this touch, which only made the thoughts racing through her head speed up. She didn’t move to stop him - she didn’t want to - as he slid across the mattress to get closer to her.

A few minutes ago the thought of facing him had her wanting to swallow her own tongue. That feeling was gone, and in its place was…

 _Wonder_.

“Hey,” Oliver whispered, his voice rough with sleep, raspy. His hand found her lower back, the heat of his palm cutting through her shirt with ease. The intimacy of _that_ was nothing compared to when he started rubbing tiny circles against her spine, making her shiver, her pulse picking up. “What…”

She knew the instant he saw what she was holding because he froze, his hand stopping mid-motion.

Felicity looked at him. His hair was tousled, sticking up in random directions, his lids still heavy with sleep, a crease in his cheek from his pillowcase.

She watched his sleepy grin slowly slip away.

“You kept this?” she whispered.

He didn’t respond right away. His eyes were glued to the wrapper in her hands, and hers were glued to him, waiting. The paper changed everything. It was evidence, hard, tangible evidence in her hand that what he’d said had been _real_.

The entire tone of last night shifted in her head, and everything that’d happened between them suddenly had a different connotation. All the times he’d magically appeared, all the times she’d looked in his eyes and saw something she was so, _so_ sure she’d been projecting onto him, all the times he’d touched her, the way his breathing had changed, how clammy his palms had been, how he’d looked at her.

It was all suddenly _different_ , leaving her reeling for a totally different reason than when she’d first opened her eyes that morning.

“You kept this?” Felicity repeated, turning to face him. She had to hear it, from him, she had to see his lips moving. “After all this time?”

Oliver’s hand fell away from her back as he slowly propped himself up on his elbow. He licked his lips before swallowing. It was so loud he might as well have gulped. His eyes darted to the foot of the bed, the wheels in his head turning as he put two and two together about how she had the wrapper.

“I wasn’t snooping,” Felicity blurted. “I found it on the floor, under the comforter. Which I guess could still be called snooping since it was kind of covered and it’s not really mine.” She looked at the wrapper again, running her thumb over a well-worn crease. “Anymore, at least. I wasn’t-”

“It’s okay,” Oliver interrupted, the words uneven. His voice didn’t match his eyes. There was a resolve there that made her breath catch as he sat up. The comforter slipped down, falling in a bunch around his hips. He crossed his legs, his hands smoothing over his thighs and knees in nervous jerks, his eyes still on the paper. He finally gestured at the wrapper. “I didn’t think you’d ever see that.”

She had no idea how to respond to that.

He reached for it with a soft, “Can I…?”

The irrational urge to pull it close and never let go swept over her, but she pushed it back down. It wasn’t hers, and considering the soft look in his eyes, it wasn’t like he was going to destroy it. Felicity gingerly handed it back to him, very aware of how he grasped the edges of it, like he didn’t want to touch her. The second he got it, he refolded it back into a small, neat square, like he’d done it a million times before.

He knew exactly which way it went so it was once again put back together.

Oliver palmed it, closing his hand around it.

And then he looked at her.

Felicity’s heart tripped all over itself as his eyes flickered over her face, like he was trying to read her. She wasn’t sure what he saw, if it was what he’d been looking for, but he must have found something because he finally started talking.

“I had a girlfriend,” he said, his voice soft, “when I met you in Digg’s class.”

_Oh._

“I really liked you,” he said. “A lot. I mean, I still do, but that’s… I’m not…” Felicity could only stare at him, unsure what she was supposed to be responding to. Oliver returned her gaze, and just like last night he didn’t hold anything back, not a single thing, letting her see the unease and guilt that shadowed his eyes. “It wasn’t unusual for me to step out on her. She knew what I was doing just as much as I did, but she never did anything about it. It was like a twisted kind of permission, so I… I didn’t stop. I didn’t want to…” His fingers tightened around the wrapper. “Until I met you.”

Felicity blinked. “What?”

“You took me completely by surprise,” he said. “I didn’t know what happened, or how it happened, but you… you suddenly turned around one day and gave me this horoscope and I didn’t…”

Felicity could only stare at him, not that he noticed. He was staring at the wrapper, his brow furrowing.

“What I had with Laurel…” Oliver shook his head. “It was exactly what I wanted. What I thought I wanted. I could get anyone I went after.” His smile was small and bitter as he added, “And I did. Except for you.”

It wasn’t the words so much as the bald honesty in his voice that startled her. “But you never…”

“I didn’t want to do that with you,” Oliver admitted. He winced. “Felicity, I’m not trying to make what I did better, I don’t want you thinking I’m making excuses or, or… I just…” A smaller, softer smile tugged at his lips. “I just knew it, the second I saw you. You were different, there was just something… different about you. _God_.” He let out a sardonic chuckle and scrubbed his face. When he looked at her again, there was a strange pleading in his eyes. “I know I keep saying that, but it’s true. You were… I don’t even know.” He swallowed uneasily, but his gaze never wavered. “It didn’t matter, though, because I was with Laurel. Which is why I decided to break up with her when Digg gave us that assignment.”

_And the hits keep coming._

“Wow,” Felicity breathed. It was all she could manage. “You are… You are really honest when you first wake up.”

“I don’t want to lie to you,” Oliver replied, his eyes plaintive. “Or hide anything. I just don’t want to. I can’t. I already ruined this and the thought of making it worse…”

_You didn’t._

The instinctive thought took her completely by surprise, but it was also true. He was so frank, the way he said it - _‘I already ruined this’_ \- like it was simple fact that lying was out of the question. It was _that_ she responded to. The cynical side of her argued it was something a liar would say, but when she looked into his eyes, she _knew_ he was telling the truth. It was a feeling she’d always had around him, one buried deep in her foundations - she could always tell when he was being real with her. She’d felt it in the library that day - which is why she thought he was finally showing her his true colors - and the same certainty had surfaced last night. His admission had rocked her to the core then, just as much as it was right now.

But this time she didn’t want to run away.

“So what happened then?” Felicity asked.

“She told me she was pregnant,” Oliver replied. Felicity’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening. “She _thought_ she was pregnant, at least. And I believed her, mostly because she was just so freaked out. Except she wasn’t at the same time.” He shook his head, his eyes getting the faraway look again as they drifted to a spot over her shoulder. “She always talked about what would eventually happen between us, and she was… She wanted it, the whole thing. Marriage. Kids. Careers that complimented each other. She wanted what my parents have, basically. But I could barely stomach the idea of moving in with her, much less all of that. She said I would want it when I got older.” He laughed under his breath. “I didn’t want that,” he said, looking at his hands. At the wrapper. “Not with her.”

Felicity would have to be deaf and blind to miss his insinuation.

“Oh,” she whispered, and after a second, she added, “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Oliver said roughly. He knew full well what he was admitting to her, how _heavy_ it was. “Wow.”

He scrubbed his palm over his face again and her eyes drifted down to the paper between his fingers. _Her_ paper. A random piece of gum wrapper she’d given to him on a whim. He never let it go, not once. Did he know that his thumb kept following the same path where he rubbed the edges? Like he’d done it a hundred times. It was mesmerizing and oddly settling. The meaning behind the action blanketed her, giving what he was saying a whole new level of meaning.

“I was pissed,” Oliver continued. “I felt like I was being punished. I finally found something I really wanted, but all these roadblocks were in the way. And it was because of me. All of it. I put myself there. I was so angry, with Laurel, with the situation, with myself.” He closed his eyes. “All I wanted was to feel better, and I thought that… I was wrong, obviously. Instead of not going to see you that night, instead of waiting even one fucking hour, I went to the library. And you were so… you were this… _sunshine,_ and you were so goddamn beautiful and it felt like I was losing that, like it was being taken away from me. I just… I snapped. And so naturally I took it all out on you. God, Felicity…” He stared at her, and she felt him willing her to understand. “You’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt, and I did more than that. I was such a dick that day, and you did nothing to deserve it. I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I know you are.”

It didn’t escape either of them that she didn’t absolve him, but something told her he didn’t want her to, that getting the chance to apologize was enough.

He ducked his head, pressing his lips together in what she was beginning to see was what he did when he was anxious or uncomfortable. Her fingers twitched, the urge to reach out and touch him overwhelming.

“It turned out to be a false alarm,” he said. “She wasn’t pregnant. We broke up, but by then…” He gave her a tight smile and she read between the lines. _What was done was done._ “I knew by the way you looked at me that I didn’t have a chance after that day. I fucked it all up. I didn’t know how to make it better or how to fix it. So I just… I let it go.”

_I let you go._

The unsaid words hit her harder than anything he’d actually said.

“I, uh… I wouldn’t have been very receptive,” Felicity said, needing to say something. “It probably would’ve even made it worse.”

Oliver nodded. “Good. I’m glad. I didn’t deserve it.”

_But do you now?_

The unspoken question lingered in the air between them. Did he? Her gut said yes. Not just her gut, her entire body, including her heart, mind and something so much deeper, something that she felt pulling from somewhere inside her.

Pulling her to him.

Before she could say anything, though, he let out a loud groan.

“Well, I’m definitely keeping with tradition,” Oliver said with a small, bitter laugh, “saying all the wrong things at the wrong time. I’m doing this all wrong. It’s just… I thought about what I would say if I ever got the chance, if I ever saw you again.”

Felicity’s heart stuttered. “You did?”

“I never stopped thinking about you, Felicity,” he admitted. His words caught up to him a second later and he suddenly sat up taller, looking like he wanted to move closer, to reassure her. Without even thinking about it she found herself leaning towards him, her hand landing on the mattress between them. He didn’t take it. “If I’m freaking you out, Felicity, please tell me. Okay? I don’t want to. That’s the last thing I want.”

She shook her head. “You’re not. It’s just… It’s a lot.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s not like you were exactly planning on crashing an underwear-only party at my house.” She snorted and a ghost of a smile crossed his lips. He glanced at the wrapper again before looking back at her. His eyes searched hers, like he was looking for something, a confirmation maybe. She wondered if he got it because he whispered, “Felicity…”

_Fe-li-ci-ty._

Her chest tightened at the sound, at the way he dragged her name out, paying deserved attention to each and every single syllable. And then he _really_ looked at her. Felicity’s stomach swooped - god, she thought he’d been intense a moment ago… that was nothing compared to this.

“I never saw you coming,” he said, his voice soft, _reverent_. He shook his head in wonder. “And I’ll never be the same.”

The declaration took her breath away. She stared at him for a long moment, not breathing, and he just stared back, not hiding anything, completely content, like her just knowing how he felt was good enough for him.

Before she knew what she was doing, Felicity crawled up onto the bed, kneeling in front of him.

Oliver’s eyes widened - in anticipation but also what looked like stark terror - and he didn’t move.

Felicity cupped his face.

His stubble was incredibly soft against her palms. Her fingers danced over his ears, one thumb brushing his cheek, the other slipping over the corner of his mouth. His lips parted with a shaky breath as he sat before her, unmoving. He didn’t let go of the folded wrapper, didn’t reach for her. But not because he didn’t want to. He did - she could see it in the way his pupils blew wide, the way his lips trembled, his lids growing heavy when his eyes dropped to her mouth. She swore she felt him shaking, but he didn’t move.

Because he was waiting.

_For her._

Felicity gasped his name with her own wonder, leaning forward, her lips grazing his.

Oliver stopped her with a ragged, “Felicity,” his hands coming up to her shoulders. She thought he was going to push her away, but he didn’t, gripping her tight instead, pulling back to see her eyes. “Are you… is this…” His inability to speak had irritation flashing over his face, but he wasn’t deterred in the least. “I know we were going full-force last night, but that was…” He forced himself to stop before asking, “Are you sure?”

Felicity caressed his face, her lips tugging up into a smile. “You asked me last night if I liked you,” she said. His eyes widened and he went stock-still, barely breathing. Her smile grew as she nodded. “I do, Oliver. I like you a lot.”

“You do?” he asked, a beatific smile lighting up his face.

“Yeah,” she replied, suddenly feeling light as a feather. She laughed as the feeling washed through her, sending her soaring. “Yeah, I do.”

Oliver grinned and he was so handsome it _hurt_. His hand slipped down her arms before he grasped her waist. Her heart leapt, and she swore he heard it judging by the way his eyes darkened, the way his hands paused before sliding up her sides, his touch tentative, giving her all the room in the world to stop him if she wanted to.

She didn’t.

“I’ve liked you since that first day,” Felicity said, “that day when I was chewing on a stupid pen and you… you had that tablet. And you didn’t know how to use that writing app, do you remember that?” He chuckled, nodding, and she knew without him having to tell her that he remembered everything. “You made me so nervous…”

He huffed out a whispered, “Oh, you have no idea.”

Felicity bit her lip, an unsteady breath getting caught in her throat. He held her with such tenderness, a new intensity filling his face, his eyes never leaving hers. He was _transfixed._ A nervous rush of butterflies stampeded through her system, and she was suddenly floating for an entirely different reason.

She was no longer scared, though, because she knew he’d keep her anchored.

_Always._

“You were Oliver Queen,” Felicity said, brushing her thumbs over his temples, “and I was just…”

“You were everything,” Oliver breathed before he captured her lips with his.

It was soft, gentle, so different from before. Last night had been about heat and passion, about pure need, the need to touch each other, to ease an ache they both felt, one they could find in each other. It’d been fueled by foggy misconceptions and alcohol, by hours of being near each other, literally half-naked, the hours whittling them down until their inhibitions were gone.

But this… this was _more_. She’d gotten a tiny taste of it last night, but in this moment, in his arms, feeling what he felt for her in the tender way he held her, the gentle way he kissed her… it was _right_. She was right where she was supposed to be, and the certainty of that rocked her. Was this why she hadn’t walked out altogether during their project? Why they kept pushing each other, but also why they never gave up?

Whatever this was, it’d been squandered before and she wasn’t about to waste another second.

And neither was he, judging by the way he moaned, his lips parting under hers, his tongue darting out. Morning breath was an issue for all of two seconds before Felicity decided she didn’t care. She almost wanted to laugh because that was usually something she really cared about, but it hadn’t even occurred to her in the bathroom. And if it meant she had to stop kissing him?

 _No,_ absolutely not.

Just the thought of it had her holding him tighter… until Oliver suddenly pulled back. “Felicity…” He didn’t let her go, though, his hands tightening around her ribs, his body saying one thing, his mind another. She gasped her protest, moving to chase after him, but he dodged back with a low, “I don’t want you to-”

“Oliver,” she interrupted, the biggest grin splitting her face. Their eyes met, a thin wall of caution covering barely-bridled need. She shook her head. “Shut up and kiss me.”

An abashed smile tugged at his lips before she pulled them back to her.

This time when they touched, it was all passion.

“Oh god, Felicity…”

And then he gave her _everything_ , everything he had, and she took every single bit of it.

Felicity pushed up onto her knees to get closer to him, sliding her hands into his hair, angling his head to deepen the kiss. He opened for her with a sigh, one of pure release and compliance, and for a moment it was all her, guiding everything, kissing him with such ardor that he trembled. But then something switched inside him and he suddenly arched his back to get closer to her, his arms winding around her waist, tugging her into his lap.

It wasn’t enough, not nearly as she settled against him. The comforter was still between them, muffling everything, but she still felt his growing hardness pressing up, seeking her out. She ground down on him, and when the hard ridge of his arousal brushed against her naked sex, she whimpered.

Oliver moaned. His hand splayed over her lower back, his hips thrusting up to meet her as he grabbed hers, pushing her down.

God, but she needed _more_.

 _More, more, more_.

Felicity pushed on his shoulders, urging him back. They bounced against the mattress, their teeth crashing together, making them both chuckle, especially when the harsh movements were enough for her glasses to slip down her nose and hit him in the face. She huffed in irritation as he laughed and she whipped them off, reaching over far enough to set them on the nightstand on her side of the bed.

 _Her side_.

She had a side, apparently, and that idea didn’t completely freak her out anymore.

Oliver gazed up at her, his hands running up and down her waist, his eyes glazed with lust, his lips swollen, his hair wild. He was gorgeous, and _sexy_ , his mouth parting with slow pants.

Without breaking contact, she reached between them and pushed the comforter out of the way, just enough for her to settle into his lap. The soft fabric of his boxers was barely a barrier as she pressed her wet heat against him, and oh god, even that barely mattered because she still felt him completely.

“ _Oliver…_ ”

Felicity grabbed him, damn near pinning him to the bed, rocking against him. His face went slack with pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut, his hands turning into iron around her. He thrust up against her, his breathless moans intermingling with her gasps, her arousal soaking through his boxers. She angled her hips, dragging her sex against his entire length.

She needed those gone _now_.

“Condom,” Felicity gasped, her mouth falling open in a silent cry a second later when he hit her clit. She let out a strangled cry that quickly melted into a rasped, “Tell me you have…”

He grunted, but he didn’t respond, not right away. Instead he yanked her shirt - _his shirt_ \- up and out of the way and suddenly his hands were on her naked skin. They were both so hot, but the heat still surprised her, sending a shiver down her spine, goosebumps radiating out from where his fingers grazed over her hips, her waist, her ribs, and around, down her back, over the sensitive dimples right above her ass.

It was a lethal combination, the chills a sharp contrast to the heat of his hardness rocking against her sex.

“Oh… _god_ ,” she moaned, arching her back. He moved with a speed and efficiency that left her in the dust - one second he was just as lost as she was in sensation and the next concentration had his brow furrowing, sharpening his eyes and he was suddenly unbuttoning her shirt. She nodded, moving to help him, but he already had it undone, was already pushing it open, exposing her breasts. The material caught on her nipples and they were already so sensitive, earning him a short, sharp cry. Oliver was a man on a mission, cupping them before he grabbed her waist and yanked her forward. His mouth latched onto one breast, his lips wrapping around her nipple, his tongue darting over it. Pleasure sizzled down Felicity’s spine. “ _Ah_!”

He was thorough, sucking as much of her breast into his mouth as he could before he concentrating on her nipple, dragging his teeth over it, digging his face into the lush mound just enough to feel the bite of his stubble. Felicity didn’t realize she was chanting his name under her breath until he sat up, wrapping his arms around her, one of his hands sliding down to her ass to shove her as hard as he could against his cock.

Felicity shouted, jerking in his arms, pleasure shooting through her. God, she was close, closer than she thought, and she was forgetting how to breathe as he worked her body.

What would his mouth feel like between her legs, the combination of his lips and tongue?

And god, his _stubble…_

She shuddered, her sex clenching at the thought, her clit tingling. Felicity pushed him back down against the bed and he released her breast with a loud pop. The cool air hit the wet skin and she gasped a garbled, “Oh god, oh my god,” before she kissed him. It was a short, hard and wet kiss, a culmination of their growing passion. She rubbed against him and he helped her, making them both moan. But she needed _more_. Felicity sat up. “Condom,” she repeated. “You have condoms, right?”

“Yeah,” Oliver whispered with a nod, but he didn’t reach for them. No, he was determined to do something else. He reached for her again and she moved to push him back down - they needed a _condom_ , damn it - but her limbs were too heavy with arousal, with sensation, and he apparently wasn’t having that problem because he pulled her back down against him, one hand gripping her ass and the other slipping between her legs.

They both groaned when his fingers met her wet sex. She braced herself around him again, her hair falling around them in a blonde cascade, cocooning them as he rubbed her clit, so soft, so gentle… _learning_ her. Her arms shook, her breath coming in halted pants as her hips moved to meet his touch.

She met his gaze, and the look he gave her quadrupled her pleasure in a way she’d never felt before. In that moment she knew he wanted nothing more than to stay right there, pleasuring her, and oh god, that just…

Oliver gently cupped her sex before sliding two fingers inside her, filling her.

Felicity gasped his name, her arms giving out. She barely caught herself, bracing over him on one elbow, wrapping her other arm around his head. She fisted his hair, holding onto him as she rode his hand, rode his fingers. It felt so good, so, so good, her cries of pleasure growing, filling his ears. Oliver held her close, his hips meeting each of her thrusts on his fingers, cradling her when his palm found just the right spot on her clit. He concentrated his efforts there, and the pleasure that burned through her made her toes tingle. She heard him saying something, but it was lost in the blood rushing through her ears, the feel of his lips on her cheek, her temple, her ear, her jaw…

She was so close, so close… _yes yes yes_ … but just when she was about to hit that precipice, her mind pulled back, pushing the brink off, leaving her hanging, whimpering in frustration. Felicity wanted to come with him inside her. She wanted that - wanted him - with an alacrity that was startling. It was all-encompassing, demanding she obey, and she did.

“Oliver,” she moaned, turning her face to his. Her lips found his, and the kiss was _searing_. It distracted her for a moment, had her losing all train of thought as she got lost in the sensation of him _everywhere_ , touching her, holding her, making her feel so good… But then she heard his own desperate moans and felt his hardness against her thigh. Felicity forced her hips to stop, a burning pressure pulsating between her legs at the sudden lack of movement as she sat up enough to see him. “I want you inside me, Oliver. Now.”

His fingers curled inside her at the words, brushing over the small ridge that had her inner walls clamping down around him.

“Oh god, _now_ ,” she urged, kissing him again, her hips moving of their own volition. Pleasure crashed into her, making her whine as she whispered against his mouth, “Now, now… _Oliver_ …”

She wasn’t sure if she was begging him to not stop what he was doing, to add another finger, to keep rubbing her, or for him to stop and find a condom.

The word slipped past her lips again and Oliver nodded rapidly. He pulled his fingers out of her, but he didn’t let her go, keeping her close as he slapped at his nightstand. His wet fingers left smears everywhere as she rubbed herself against him all over again, slanting her mouth of his, swallowing his needy gasps. He finally found the drawer and yanked it open, his hand slipping inside…

“Shit,” he said, pulling back. He looked over, lifting her entire body with his as he scooted over to look into the drawer. It was filled with a mess of useless crap, papers and pens and things she couldn’t really focus on because all she saw was that there weren’t any condoms. “Damn it.”

“Oh my god, Oliver,” Felicity said. “Tell me you have condoms somewhere in this room.”

“I fucking better,” he said, giving her a hard kiss before he rolled her off of him. His cock strained against his boxers, the material wet from her arousal. He didn’t care in the least, wearing it proudly, something that struck her as incredibly erotic as he ran around the room, checking drawers. Felicity rolled around on the bed to watch him, her frustration starting to match his when he kept coming up empty handed. He disappeared into the bathroom, but nothing, and then he re-checked his desk, but… “Shit,” he cursed, opening the last drawer. “ _Shit_.”

A thought hit her and Felicity suddenly bolted up, pushing her hair off her face. “Oh, I think I might have some…” Oliver was already a step ahead of her, going to grab her purse before she could get up. He was back in the blink of an eye, handing her the large bag. The second she opened it, though, she remembered that she’d cleaned it out last night, dumping the entirety of its contents out because she’d been looking for her lucky lipstick. She’d left a huge mess of stuff on her bed, including the condoms her roommate had given her for _‘just in case’_ situations. She hadn’t even _thought_ to grab them because she didn’t have _‘just in case’_ situations. Well, not normally. And of course she’s finally in a _‘just in case’_ situation and it’s with _Oliver Queen_ and _she didn’t have any condoms_. That didn’t stop her from checking every single pocket in her purse, but they weren’t in there. “ _Frak_.”

“You don’t have any either?” Oliver asked, his voice rough. He was still standing before her, his index finger rubbing against his thumb - the finger that’d been deep inside her. His chest moved with uneven breaths, matching her stuttered attempts to catch her own. “And you’re not… on anything?”

“No,” Felicity said, throwing her bag on the floor. “Well, I am, technically, on pills, but I haven’t been taking them. Like, at all. I keep _forgetting_ , which probably tells you all you need to know about my current sex life.” She was babbling, but she couldn’t stop, like she’d forgotten to turn of the water tap in her mind all of a sudden, as if it was directly tied to the lust running rampant through her veins. “I’ve-I’ve just been so stressed with my class load this semester and I had to grab a few hours each day fixing computers at this shop by my apartment because Wendy moved out, so we’re down a roommate, and… and _god_ , I really wish I’d been thinking about it because… this… you…”

Oliver was silent, just watching her, his eyes darkening in a way that made her stomach swoop. He didn’t move, though, and she could see the strain in his muscles to keep himself still.

For her.

It was wildly sexy in the strangest way, that he wasn’t trying to push her or convince her they could still do this. Instead he was being patient and kind, keeping himself in check, which was so _sweet_ …

It only made her want him more.

Felicity’s eyes darted down in time to see his cock twitching through his boxers.

A stab of need hit her right in her core and she licked her lips, scooting to the edge of the bed, reaching for him. Her fingers slipped into the band of his boxers and she pulled, yanking him closer before she started tugging them down. His breath hitched, his hardness noticeably swelling under the wet cloth as she said, “We don’t need one for this.”

“Felicity,” he rasped, his hands finding her hair, his hips jerking towards her, a wild hiss slipping out when his boxers dragged over his sensitive flesh. “ _Oh_ …”

But then he was moving, faster than she could comprehend. Oliver didn’t give her the time or space to pull them all the way down. He grabbed her wrist, yanking it away. She opened her mouth to argue, her brow furrowing - what the hell was he doing? - but then he cupped her face and leaned over, his mouth covering hers.

The kiss overpowered every single sense in her body. He plundered her mouth, tasting her so thoroughly it made her whimper. She was powerless to do anything but take what he was giving her, and that’s all she wanted to do, all she ever wanted to do. It quickly became messy, both of them moving too fast, too eagerly, but they didn’t stop. She grabbed his boxers again, using them to pull him closer, her fingertips pushing them down despite his earlier efforts to stop her as his own desperate hands slid into her bedridden hair.

She _needed_ him, _now_ , and she suddenly didn’t want to wait.

Felicity was about to say the stupidest thing she possibly could - she _knew_ it was stupid, but god, she just didn’t _care_ , not when he was kissing her like this, not when he was being so wonderful - when Oliver suddenly pulled away.

Her head was spinning, partly from lack of oxygen but mostly from him, from his powerful kisses and his drugging presence, his ability to drown out everything around her but him. It was a little amazing that she wasn’t running from this feeling. The more time she spent with him, the more she gave herself over to him and the way he made her feel, the stronger it got.

And the more she wanted it.

Wanted _him_.

Felicity reached for him, but he dropped to the ground before the bed.

Her heart stuttered, her core suddenly burning so hot with need she whined his name. He pushed her legs apart, looking up at her with heavy-lidded lust. The intent on his face had a fresh surge of arousal flooded between her legs.

_Oh god, yes, yes, yes…_

He hooked her legs over his shoulders, his hands gripping her hips and then he tugged, hard, pulling her all the way to the edge of the mattress. Felicity let out a shocked, “Oh,” as she fell back, her hands scrabbling over the sheets to push herself back up, not wanting to lose sight of him.

She wondered what he saw on her face, because somehow the look grew more fierce, and she _felt_ his need as if it were her own.

“Oliver,” she whimpered.

He whispered her name in a guttural gasp before he reached between her legs to part her nether lips.

Felicity couldn’t stop looking at him and he didn’t look away either. It was the single most intense moment she’d ever felt in her entire life as she watched him watch her, both of them intent on her pleasure. But as much as it was hers it was also his - he _wanted_ to do this, and that made it so much sexier, made her want it so much more.

Oliver licked a strip from bottom to top, the tip of his tongue grazing over her clit. She was so tender already from his ministrations earlier, her arousal making her sensitive, the tiny pearl so ready for more, that the tiny bit of pressure had her hips jerking up. Intrigue and lust flared in Oliver’s eyes right before he splayed one hand over her lower stomach to keep her still.

And then he dove in.

Felicity didn’t remember falling back on the bed, or her hands diving into his hair, fisting his strands between her fingers, pulling him closer. She didn’t know when she pulled her legs up, one foot on the back of his shoulder, the other on the edge of the bed as she arched her hips up towards his mouth. She didn’t hear her cries of pleasure or his grunts as he tasted her.

All she was aware of was his mouth on her, his tongue exploring her so, so thoroughly - oh _god_ , he was thorough, trying to touch and taste and get to every inch of her. His lips wrapped around her clit and his teeth nipping at her. He thrust his tongue into her before flattening it, rocking his head against her. He took his time, reading her reactions, trying to find what made her squirm the most. He eventually gave up trying to keep her still, his hands falling to hold her hip. Her thighs clamped down around his face as she thrust up, her cries growing louder.

Oliver chased after her pleasure, playing her like an instrument, following what made her absolutely lose it.

It was a lot, so much, and she was so far gone in her desire that she didn’t temper her reactions one bit. It was a little shocking how much she gave him, how much she wanted to give him, but it was so _freeing_.

She completely let go.

Pleasure turned to molten lava in her core, curling inside her with an intent that had her gasping for air.

It burned, coiling tighter, tiny tendrils spinning off in heated bursts as he built her higher and higher…

She was saying something, but she had no idea what was coming out. She gripped his hair tighter, thrusting up against his face, riding his tongue, delighting in the feel of his large, warm hands touching her. He slid them up her waist, his fingers featherlight, and instead of distracting her, it only emphasized the sensation building inside her.

The heat that swamped her was overpowering and she held onto him tighter, her hips rocking up, her thighs shaking. Her arms started to strain with effort, but she didn’t stop, because she didn’t want him to stop, and he didn’t.

_Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop._

Oliver’s suddenly gripped her hips and nailed her to the bed, flattening his tongue right against her clit.

Felicity’s mouth fell open in a silent cry, her back arching, her hips moving…

“Oooh…! Ooh, Oliver, Oliver… Oliver!”

Her release hit her hard. Her entire body jerked, closing in around him as the orgasm rocketed through her in a hot wave of pleasure that made the soles of her feet burn as her voice echoed off the walls. He didn’t let her go for an instant, but he did soften his tongue when her cries dissolved into whines, giving her a tiny reprieve as he dipped his mouth down to her entrance, licking her clean.

She floated for the longest time, her legs finally falling to the side, her fingers growing lax in his hair.

With a whispered, “Oliver,” she opened her eyes as he kissed her stomach, the underside of one breast, the top of the other one. She wrapped her arms around him when he pressed his face into her neck, kissing her pulse point. He blanketed her body with his and she arched her back to get closer to him. He was still hard where he settled between her legs. “Oliver…”

It was all she could manage.

Her brain was cotton. Mind-boggling orgasm cotton.

“You okay?” he whispered. She expected a little smugness, maybe, a proud smile, but he was being genuine. After what he’d just done, that touched her way more than she expected. “Was that okay?”

The tenderness in his voice was undeniable, as was how much the question shook her, tears burning her eyes.

“Yeah.” Felicity pulled on his shoulders, urging him to look at her. She cupped his face, still feeling remnants of her arousal in his beard. She could taste herself on his lips and it made her moan, which in turn had him groaning as he deepened the kiss. “That was just…” she mumbled, before kissing him again. “That was… wow. It was…” She lifted her legs higher and he settled further between her thighs. She felt him twitching against her, his hardness thick and long. “So wow, very wow.”

Oliver chuckled against her lips, making her grin. “Good,” he replied. “I want to make you feel good.”

The baldness of that statement took her breath away in the best way possible. How was he even real?

“You do,” she whispered, nodding before kissing him. “You really, really do.” The kisses grew longer, deeper, and he shifted over her, pressing his body harder against hers. He moaned and she pulled back enough to tell him, “I want to make you feel good, too.”

He didn’t miss a beat, replying, “You always have,” before kissing her again. His hips rocked against her, her juices soaking his boxers all over again, his length rubbing against her. His movements became more frantic as the seconds passed and she met him every bit of the way, meeting his every thrust, delighting in the desperate, “ _Felicity_ ,” he gasped before he lost himself in her arms.

She so, so wanted to make him feel good, she wanted to do everything and anything…

But…

“Oh damn it,” Felicity blurted and Oliver instantly froze. He pulled back to look at her, panting, his brow creased with worry. Despite that his eyes shined in a way she’d never seen before. He was so beautiful. She stroked his face as she said, “Still no condoms.”

Oliver groaned at the reminder, his shoulders slumping, his head falling into the crook of her neck. “I can’t fucking believe I finally have you up here and I don’t have any goddamn condoms,” he said, his voice muffled against her skin, making her giggle.

“Someone in this house has to have some left over from last night, right?” she asked. The party from the night before felt so far away, like it’d happened more than just a few hours ago. She lifted one leg higher, curling it around him, wanting to feel more even though they were facing a huge obstacle. The move had his boxers rubbing across her sensitive skin inner thighs, though, and pain razed over her skin, making her wince as she said, “I mean, I hope they used condoms.”

He stopped her movements altogether. “Are you alright?” he asked.

God, did the man miss _nothing_?

“Yeah,” she replied, and then she blushed. “It’s just… Beard burn is a very real thing.”

Oliver paused, confusion filling his eyes before it hit him what she was referring to. A positively feral grin crossed his face, the opposite of his earlier tentativeness. “I’d say I’m sorry,” he said, “but that’d be a lie.”

Felicity huffed. “You’re lucky it was worth it.”

That made his grin grow and she gripped the hair on his chin, tugging on it in response. He ducked his head, capturing her fingers with his teeth. His tongue darted out, tasting her fingertips, and suddenly the silly air took a sharp turn into something heavier. Desire and want roared back to life, so much more than what it’d been a moment ago, an inferno burning between them. Somehow it was more intense, the air shifting, becoming charged as his lips closed around her fingers, hers hooking over his teeth.

Oliver moaned, crowding her against the mattress, pulling his leg up for leverage as he thrust against her. She was still sensitive, but not enough to stop her from responding, to stop the fresh wave of arousal from hitting her as he rubbed his rock-hard cock through her wetness.

Their problem wasn’t anywhere close to being solved, but instead of encouraging him to get up and go find a condom, the same stupid suggestion from earlier popped into her head.

“Oliver,” she gasped, pulling back.

“I know,” he replied, his lips slanting over hers again. She gasped, kissing him back, before he pulled away again. “I’m going. I’m gonna go find one. Right now.”

He didn’t move, not right away, his lips finding hers. When he did start to get up, Felicity grabbed him, pulling his face back to hers. Oliver fell against her completely, shoving his hands into her hair, cradling her head as he ravaged her. She pulled her legs up until she could hook her feet in his boxers. She managed to get them halfway down his ass when he pulled away.

“I’m…” He moved to get up, but she didn’t let him, delighting in the way the muscles in his back moved under her hands. She really, really didn’t want him to go…

But he had to and she needed to let him.

 _This is so stupid_.

He’d be right back, and it was a good thing that he was going to go get a condom, and yet…

She was _insatiable_ , and so was he.

“Oh god, Oliver,” she groaned, letting him go abruptly. “You need to go, right now, go right now, because if you don’t…”

With a moan, he covered her lips again, his hips jerking against her.

The need for oxygen was too much this time and they broke apart, but she didn’t let him get far, kissing his mole and his jaw before working her way down his throat. He swallowed heavily, gasping as she licked and nipped at him, his hips rubbing against her in short, jerky movements.

It was astonishing how much she wanted him right now, how much she needed him. It dominated everything.

Even common freaking sense.

There wasn’t a single doubt in Felicity’s mind in that moment as she reached down and pushed his boxers out of the way. Oliver moaned her name, the word so laced with desperation she wondered how he was still keeping himself from attacking her at all. She shoved them down the rest of the way, just enough to free him from his bindings. The instant his hardness touched her sex, the heat between them exploded. Pure instinct took over, sensation overtaking everything. They thrust against each other, both of them moaning. Felicity found his pulse point and his fingers tightened in her hair as she started sucking, her ministrations only faltering when the length of cock slipped through her wetness…

_Yes, yes, yes…_

A sudden banging at his door shattered the mood.

“Hey, Queen!” someone shouted through the door, slamming their first against the wood. “Open up, man!”

Felicity jumped, letting out a little yip just as Oliver froze, somehow draping his entire body over hers in a way that covered her completely.

“It’s okay, it’s locked,” Oliver said as she clung to him, his body surrounding hers, before he turned to shout, “Fuck off, Kevin!”

Oh, the meathead from last night.

_Lovely._

“I’m hungry!” Kevin replied, trying to doorknob. Felicity felt Oliver’s muscles tensing as he rolled his eyes. She opened her mouth to ask him why Kevin was informing Oliver about his hunger status when Kevin said, “It’s nearly one and we’re…”

His words were abruptly cut off by a loud thud.

And then a _key_ was in the lock and the doorknob was turning and someone - _Tommy Merlyn_ \- was saying, “Oliver, you better be decent, I’m coming in.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Felicity whispered, curling into Oliver’s chest while simultaneously trying to unwind herself from him to get away, but he was all over her, pinning her to the bed. Even if she had been free, Oliver wasn’t about to let her get up either way, probably because of their severely naked status, and for that she was grateful except there were still people _coming into his room_.

“For fuck’s sake,” Oliver growled before yelling, “Tommy, don’t-”

Too late. Tommy had the door open, a spare key in his hand. He was staring at the lock, struggling to remove the key as he said, “You said everyone could stay for a barbeque because we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere. But since your lazy ass didn’t get up to make any actual barbeque, we’re stuck with grilling, and, as you know, nobody but you knows how to manage that monstrosity downstairs and we’re all…” He finally looked up. His jaw dropped, his eyes popping open. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had company. Wait, is that…?”

The biggest shit-eating grin Felicity had ever seen - and that was _saying something_ considering who was talking - covered Tommy’s face when he recognized her.

“Get out,” Oliver said, using his arm to shield her, but it was too late.

“Felicity Smoak,” Tommy said, his tone all schmooze. Oliver groaned, his head falling against Felicity’s chest with a barely audible, “I’m so sorry,” as Tommy’s grin grew even _bigger_ , if that was even possible. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Felicity gave him a small wave around Oliver’s bicep. “Hi, Tommy.”

“Hi, yourself.” He winked at her before doing an eyebrow wiggle at Oliver. “I now see why you’re still in bed.”

“And yet you’re still in here,” Oliver replied, his words getting lost in Tommy’s tacked on, “Nice ass,” when he saw Oliver’s bare backside.

The moment was once again ruined when Kevin came bounding in with a boisterous, “Man, I already burnt half the dogs, we’re gonna have to… _Oh._ ” His grin matched Tommy’s as he said, “I didn’t know you knew him like that, Rain Girl.”

“Rain Girl?” Felicity repeated incredulously just as Oliver snapped, “That’s it.” He was about to get up before remembering their _very_ precious position. Felicity remembered before he did and she latched onto him, digging her nails in to keep him from getting up. She could feel Oliver’s desire to get up and physically remove the two idiots from his room, but he wasn’t about to leave her open to their eyes. He shot them both death glares instead. “You two. _Out_. _Now._ ”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Tommy said, shoving Kevin out, much to the meathead’s chagrin. “But the masses are hungover and cranky, Oliver, just so you know. Not cranky, so much as you spoil the shit out of everyone with that pulled pork of yours. There was almost a riot when we all woke up and you weren’t in the-”

“I hear you,” Oliver interrupted. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Felicity almost wanted to argue, but the mood had been effectively ruined. And she _was_ hungry. Although Oliver hadn’t exactly asked her if she wanted to stay. Yet. Hopefully yet. Wow, they hadn’t really talked about much of anything, had they? One second he was telling her everything about the past and the next Felicity was telling him she liked him and then… well, he was just so damn _sexy_ , and…

It took her a second to realize that Tommy had left, closing the door behind him, leaving her and Oliver alone.

“Hey,” Oliver said, smoothing his hand over her hair. “I’m sorry about that. I forgot he had a key.”

“You stopped them from seeing all my goodies,” Felicity said, making him chuckle. “It’s okay.” Remembering just what they’d interrupted, she licked her lips, blushing for an entirely different reason. “It’s actually probably a good thing because I was about to say screw it.”

“Yeah,” Oliver replied, an edge to his voice. “Me too.” Guilt colored his face, but there was also some of that familiar lust. But he didn’t let it get that far, and she was glad. Well, she was sort of glad. Mostly glad. Because being stupid - _especially_ after how things had supposedly gone down with his ex-girlfriend - was just, well, stupid.

And yet…

“Will you stay?” Oliver asked, pulling her from her musings. She blinked up at him, and didn’t have a single explanation for why her heart suddenly leapt into her throat. Considering what they’d been about to do, the simple act of him asking her to stay shouldn’t be making her heart trip all over itself. He licked his lips, pressing them together, and her heart jumped even more when she saw how nervous he suddenly was. It still blew her mind a little bit that _she_ made _him_ nervous. “If you can’t… I’m sure you want to get back to your car.”

She did. She should.

But…

“I’ll stay,” she said, damn near blurting it in her haste to speak through the sudden burst of butterflies in her stomach.

“Yeah?” Delight filled his eyes. “Good,” he said with a bashful nod, and she swore she saw his cheeks pinkening.

Felicity smiled. “Yeah. Good.”

A thud from outside the door sounded and irritation covered Oliver’s face as he turned to glare at the door. “I’m sorry about them. They’re idiots.”

“They are,” Felicity confirmed and then she patted his shoulder. “Although you know what they say about the people you hang out with.”

Oliver blinked at her, a little astounded, and as her words caught up with her, he asked, “Are you calling me an idiot?”

“I, uh… Yes, but…” He was teasing her, and she knew that, but she’d also just called him an idiot and that felt wrong because of how much he’d bared himself to her earlier. He was being so real and honest and sweet with her and she was _insulting_ him. “But you’re my idiot,” she amended. The reality of those words hit her much quicker and she froze. “I mean, not mine, like, _mine_. Mine, like… like I’m… you’re…”

“I wanna be yours,” he interrupted, his voice soft. A small smile pulled at his lips. “I want to be your idiot. If you want me.”

“Yeah,” Felicity instantly replied. “I’d like that. A lot. _A lot,_ a lot.” God, why did her babbling choose the most inopportune moments to appear? But then he smiled at her. God, he was _glowing_. She smiled back, instinctively biting her lip to keep her grin from getting too big, but it was already growing. She nodded, her cheeks warming. “Okay, so… you’ll be mine and I’ll be yours.”

“You’ll be mine,” he repeated, the emotion in his voice making her heart feel oh so full, “and I’ll be yours.”

Oliver kissed her, sealing it.

It was soft and romantic and it made her insides leap with joy… but it also turned out to be the very worst thing he could do. The kiss started out calm and gentle, but the fire quickly caught on again, morphing into more. _Ooh_ god, it turned into so much more, like the fact that they’d verbally confirmed what was happening between them suddenly doused their desire for each other in fuel.

They moved at the same time, attacking each other, but they didn’t get far before a sharp, “Kevin!” could be heard from outside the door followed by yet another thud, this one much closer to the room.

“Oh my god,” Oliver groaned, burying his face against her neck. Felicity laughed, kissing the side of his head. He shook his head, his beard rasping over her throat, making her laugh more. “I’m going to kill all of them,” he murmured before he started kissing her pulse point.

Her breath hitched, her head falling back to give him more access.

Another thud.

Oliver growled a colorful series of curse words under his breath.

“Don’t worry,” Felicity whispered, kissing his ear this time. “We’ll pick this up later.”

He pulled back to look at her, like he wanted to double check. He must have seen what he was looking for because a beatific smile crossed his face as he nodded.

“I can’t wait.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Next update will be on Saturday.
> 
> Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity spend the day together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to the last update was _so amazing!_ Thank you so, so, so much!
> 
> Quickly, there are two songs that were sent my way that are so Wanna Be Yours that it physically pains me. [Four Leaf Clover by Christian Hudson](https://open.spotify.com/track/0EO1sVNi1Ct3wO7iQBEHgM) via ellefraser17 gave me a meltdown on Twitter, and [Say You Won't Let Go by James Arthur](https://open.spotify.com/track/5uCax9HTNlzGybIStD3vDh) via OnlyHere4Olicity had me flailing on the couch this morning. Go listen!
> 
> My eternal gratitude to my amazing beta Margaret. She’s _the actual best_. The _actual_ best.

It took all of Oliver’s willpower to leave her. How could he not pause to drink her in? The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen was naked in his bed save for his shirt still hanging off her shoulders, looking up at him with the softest smile. Every bit of him had itched to reach out for her, to take even just one more minute.

Rolling out of bed had been hard enough - literally hard enough. It was a damn miracle he didn’t bust through his briefs, especially when he had to watch her sit up on his bed like it was the most natural thing in the world, like they hadn’t just decided this was a thing a short second ago.

She must have been able to read his mind because her mouth parted, her eyes darkening as she looked up at him. God, her eyes… He could look into them for days, swim in their beauty, drown in the fact that now when she looked at him, he saw the same desire he felt for her.

His head was _spinning_.

He’d been so positive that their class with Diggle was the last time he’d ever see her, and he’d been okay with that, because he’d driven her away. But then he looked up last night and saw her standing in his house and everything stopped.

No. Everything _changed_.

And now she was up in his room, changing into the old clothes he’d found in Thea’s dresser, because she was staying.

It was ridiculous how much _that_ made his stomach do somersaults after how he’d spent the last hour.

That was… that had been amazing. There weren’t words to capture how he felt about how she’d reacted to him, how she’d opened herself to him, so free, so giving, so responsive. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel her lips against his. Taste her.

_Smell_ her.

For as long as he lived he would always remember the way she felt under his touch as he did everything in his power to make her feel as good as he possibly could. It’d been so powerful - he’d felt so powerful - but it’d also been humbling in a way he couldn’t quite explain. That he was able to do that for her, make her feel that, it was… It was wow, as she said. Oliver’s face warmed, with amazement, awe, and a little bit of pride. _She_ was wow. No, she was more than that, she was so much more than he’d expected. He was flying.

And then she’d said the most magical words he could ever hope to hear:.

_“You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours.”_

His heart exploded with joy. He wanted to jump on the roof and yell it for everyone to hear, to celebrate with the entire world.

No, what he really wanted to do was go right back upstairs and celebrate with _her._

Oliver’s body tightened, and he tried to focus on where he was going as he headed down the hall.

He’d been fine enough to tug on a pair of jeans to run to Thea’s room, but after he’d gotten Felicity some clothes - after he saw her straightening his bed, his shirt buttoned up again, her glasses back on, accenting her wild hair, the folded gum wrapper safe and sound on his nightstand - he’d stupidly given her a kiss. One second they were standing in the middle of the room and the next they were stumbling backwards, crashing into his desk. He hadn’t thought twice when he’d picked her up and set her on it, or when she’d started pushing his pants down all over again as he sucked on her bottom lip, eliciting the most gorgeous gasps.

It was only the realization that they still didn’t have a fucking condom that had him finally backing off. It felt like a perfect storm waiting to happen - no birth control of any kind - and he wasn’t about to take any chances with her. He was terrifyingly sure that they were both too okay skipping it and it’d be a cold day in hell when he would do anything to her that she would later regret. No, he wanted to do this right, and in that moment it meant getting as far away from her as possible.

Oliver had stumbled back, panting, his jeans hanging off his ass, still feeling the ghostly scratch of her nails on his back as he left her hanging on the edge of the desk, her legs spread, her eyes luminous. She’d been breathing just as hard. He couldn’t fight the little thrill when he saw her reddened thighs peeking out from underneath the edges of his shirt and for a moment he thought about diving back in, seeing where else he could rub his face until she was screaming his name…

But then another bang had sounded from the hallway, interrupting them _again_ , and he’d backed off.

Oliver grinned, remembering the little pout she’d given him.

He was going to lose it if nobody in this entire house had a condom. Somebody _had_ to. He had stocked the house well before the party, so there had to be some left somewhere. Of course he hadn’t put any in his room… but then again, he never brought anyone up to this room. His apartment off campus was a different story, but this one he usually kept to himself.

Until last night.

The last hour had been amazing, but it wouldn’t have been anything without their initial conversation.

Oliver hadn’t thought about what would happen when they woke up this morning. He’d been too caught up in the moment last night, of having her near him at all, of her not running away when he told her how he felt about her. And he definitely hadn’t let himself think about her actually staying, of her _wanting_ to. If he was being honest with himself, he’d wondered if she’d leave. If she’d stopped things because he’d freaked her out and instead of having to relive the monstrosity that was their weeks together on that damn project, she would have waited until he was asleep and left.

He _knew_ that was dumb, because that wasn’t who Felicity Smoak was. She never backed down from _anything_.

That hadn’t stopped his fear from whispering ‘ _what if’s.’_

But it hadn’t even been a question: he told her everything, let her see everything, because with her, it was all or nothing. Had she been able to tell? If he’d done the safe thing and played it cool, tried to woo her with his usual tactics, would that have driven her off? God, who _cared_? He’d done the most terrifying thing he’d ever had to face in his life by telling the woman of his dreams how he really felt about her and it’d gotten him everything. But even if it hadn’t, he would have been glad, because the thought of her leaving without knowing how he felt about her? Maybe it was selfish, but he couldn’t let that happen.

There really was something to those stupid quotes about taking chances, because now he was hers, and he wanted to fucking _explode_ with joy.

Because instead of running in the opposite direction like she had every right to, she had _stayed_.

“Oh my god,” Oliver whispered, scrubbing his face, shaking his head in wonder.

This was really happening.

“Wow,” he breathed, his hand landing over his racing heart.

He really was the idiot she’d called him, he realized as he jogged down the stairs. His cheeks actually _hurt_ from grinning so much.

Oliver laughed to himself, glancing behind him. Every single inch of him was back in his room with her. He wanted to kick everyone out and go right back up there, peel all her clothes off and fall back into bed. He wanted to talk with her about everything and anything, learn all the things he never let himself have the chance to learn about her, and explore every inch of her in-between. He wanted to kiss her until she melted, tickle her until she couldn’t breathe, hold her close when they fell into an afternoon nap. He wanted to spend hours between her thighs, hear more of those delicious sounds she made, feel her nails against his scalp as he made her tremble, and _god_ , he wanted to learn what she felt like from the inside. He wanted to discover how her lips would look wrapped around him just as much as he wanted to drag his fingers over the soft edges of her entire body. He wanted to hear her whispers, her sighs, her laughter.

God, he wanted _everything_ , he thought as he landed on the main floor.

When he saw what was waiting for him there, he let out a breathy curse.

The house was _trashed_. Cups and bottles were littered everywhere, buckets of melted ice left in corners and what looked like toilet paper strung across one wall. And was that confetti in the corner? He didn’t even want to know what that was from. Half-melted candles were littered everywhere from the power outages, something that had a totally different meaning in the harsh light of day. That’d seemed like such a good idea last night. At least most of them were on coasters or plates. He looked around, taking stock. All the furniture was still pushed out of the way from when someone had made the makeshift dance floor and there were clothes littered everywhere.

It was a hot fucking mess… and he didn’t care. He was in too good of a mood to give a shit about any of it, or that his friends’ idea of cleaning was making a walkable path through the living room and hallway to the kitchen.

Shaking his head with a chuckle, Oliver followed the path, pushing through the swinging door. There was still a substantial amount of booze left, and it’d all been shoved onto the counters to free the island for food prep.

Which was where Tommy was currently pulling out meat from the fridge.

His best friend looked up, a huge grin covering his face. “There he is,” Tommy said, closing the fridge with a snick. “Nice hickey.”

Oliver’s hand slapped against the spot where he knew Felicity had been sucking. He hadn’t bothered looking in the mirror when he’d hurriedly shoved the first clothes he could find on in his haste to leave before he attacked his girlfriend.

_Girlfriend._

Happiness made his chest tight, but he bit the tip of his tongue. A little early for that, wasn’t it? And yet he loved the way it sounded. Felicity Smoak was his girlfriend. He should ask her first, before he started shouting it from the rooftops. She’d said he was hers - _god yes he loved that so much_ \- but they hadn’t exactly had time to talk about labels.

Yet.

With an easy grin and a middle finger, Oliver told his best friend to “Fuck off.”

Tommy laughed, but then the smile melted slightly as he paused. “Hey, man,” he said, “sorry about barging in. I didn’t know you had company up there, or I would have tied Kevin to a chair.”

“It’s okay,” Oliver said, slapping Tommy on the back. “It’s not okay for Kevin, but I’ll deal with him later.” Considering the very large problem he was still sporting in his pants, _yeah_ , he was going to punch that jackass right in the mouth. Tommy chuckled, but instead of a comment about blue balls or cockblocks that he thought would be coming, his best friend titled his head instead, his eyes softening as he stared at Oliver. It looked like he was looking at him in a whole new light and Oliver raised his eyebrows in question. “What?”

“Felicity Smoak,” was all he said, and that stupid shit-eating grin of his was back. It only grew when Oliver blushed and ducked his head. “Oh man, I knew you had it bad for her when you insisted she hated you.”

As if it was even possible, Oliver’s face grew hotter and he knew the smile that pulled at his lips was dopey as hell. “Shut up,” Oliver said, turning to open the fridge door. He glanced inside, but he didn’t see any of it, all his attention suddenly back upstairs. But then his stomach growled. “So, what have you idiots been doing to my grill?”

“Hey, in all seriousness, though, man,” Tommy said. Oliver glanced at him, waiting for the lewd bomb to drop, but it never came. Tommy _was_ serious, and it threw Oliver for a loop. His best friend clamped his hand down on his shoulder. “I’m happy for you. I’ve never seen you smile like you are right now. And that’s saying something considering how much of a downer you’ve been since that project ended last year. Remember when Digg mentioned putting her and I together, the conniption you nearly had? Hell, you were happier when she was ripping your balls off every day.” Oliver huffed out a small chuckle, but it had nothing on the growing wonder in his chest. Had he been that obvious? Tommy paused, a soft smile lighting his face. “She’s special, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Oliver replied without hesitation. “She is.”

Tommy smiled, a real, genuine smile that _almost_ made Oliver way too emotional. He returned it and then Tommy clapped him on the back.

“Well, you know what this means, right?” Tommy asked. “You are officially in wingman status, which means I get to reap all the benefits of such lovely events like last night. You would not believe how much underwear is sitting outside right now, man. So anyone wearing a skirt?” Tommy waggled his eyebrows and Oliver laughed, shoving him away. “Alright, but seriously, all those panties-less women are hungry out there. For me _and_ food. You need to get your ass on the grill. Kevin already burnt half the dogs.”

“You’d think he’d stop trying,” Oliver said, pulling out more hot dogs and the hamburger patties he and Tommy had prepped yesterday morning. His stomach growled again, reminding him he hadn’t eaten in nearly a damn day. He’d been too distracted by Felicity to even care. “If he breaks my grandfather’s grill, I’ll break his legs.”

“Maybe we should get a normal grill out there so when you have hot women - wait, sorry, _one_ hot woman,” Tommy amended where he piled some plates up with food, making Oliver roll his eyes, “we can still eat.”

“My grill makes the best burgers though.”

“It does,” Tommy agreed, lining the plates up on his arm. “But you’re the only one who knows how to use that old thing and that’d be for the days when you don’t care if we all starve to death.” Oliver laughed, the sound carrying through the kitchen. He didn’t refute it and Tommy nodded. “Exactly. I’ll take these out and put Kevin on garbage duty.”

“Tell him to throw himself in there,” Oliver said before moving to wash his hands. “I’ll be right out.”

With a nod, Tommy disappeared outside.

There was a rush of noise telling Oliver just how many people had stuck around for the barbeque-that-was-no-longer-really-a-barbeque before he shut the balcony door behind him. There was a ton of food that wasn’t primed for quick eating, so grilling anything and everything he could was on the menu.

Oliver washed his hands quickly and dried them off before moving back to the fridge, grabbing out the trundle of vegetables he’d bought. The onions and tomatoes needed to be cut, the lettuce torn, and there were green and red peppers he wanted to slice up for his own burger. The produce was fresh and it made his mouth water as he grabbed a knife and cutting board before pulling them out. He didn’t go halfway when it came to barbecuing and grilling, ever, and today was no different. And if he was being honest, part of him wanted to show Felicity that he might not be the best partner when it came to school projects, but he could do other things.

He snorted at himself, shaking his head. Then he remembered Tommy’s words - _“She’s special, isn’t she?”_ \- and the grin that pulled at his lips stayed in place for a long time.

The peppers were first, and then the onions. Just as he was finishing those up, putting them aside and moving on to the tomatoes, a soft, “Hey,” sounded from behind him.

His heart fluttered, skipping a couple beats as he turned, holding his breath.

The second he saw her, though, he released it, his entire body relaxing as he smiled at her. Would that ever go away, that weird anticipation, the split second worry that maybe he’d been imagining this the entire time? It’d barely been half a day since she’d shown up at his house at all, but that didn’t exactly compute with how he was feeling. It might have only been a few hours, but it felt a helluva lot longer.

She stood in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the jamb, wearing a pair of black leggings that were a little short on her, emphasizing her bare feet and the fact that she was still wearing his shirt. His stomach clenched at the sight, his body quickly following. She’d unbuttoned the bottom and tied the ends into a knot, revealing hints of her midriff. She’d brushed her hair, leaving it down, which was a sight to behold. He loved her hair, and knowing he was part of the reason why it had so much wild volume right now? He loved that. A lot. She’d washed her face, leaving her skin bright and clean, but it wasn’t enough to mask the little red marks his beard had left all over her mouth and chin… and one on her cheek and the entire left side of her neck was a little agitated. And was that a hickey?

He should feel bad about that. He didn’t.

“Hey,” Oliver replied, setting the knife down. He wiped his hands on his pants as she pushed off the wall. He met her halfway. Her smile was so easy and natural as she pushed up onto her toes to kiss him. Oliver wound his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, humming. Oh yeah, he was totally fucking gone when it came to this woman. He pulled back, looking down. At the right angle he could see down her shirt - _his shirt_ \- that she’d put her bra back on. “Nice shirt.”

Her cheeks warmed, turning a gorgeous light pink. “The one you gave me was a little small. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Oh, I definitely don’t mind,” Oliver replied, slipping one hand underneath it at the base of her back. She shivered when his fingers ran over the sensitive skin there, and he got another one when he followed her spine up. “I much prefer you wearing this.”

Felicity giggled, blushing more, and it made his own happiness grow as he kissed her again.

He couldn’t get enough of her.

Some part of him was very aware that he’d been in the middle of cutting vegetables and that he actually wanted to show off a little bit and also that his fingers smelled like peppers and onions - which was the opposite of sexy - but the rest of him just did not care. Not when she was in his arms, not when her lips were on his, her presence surrounding him.

The kiss slowly grew, her hands moving to cup his face, angling his head to deepen it. He moaned under his breath as he pulled her tighter against his chest, lifting her off her feet slightly. She grinned when her toes left the ground, her giggle muffled by his lips.

He loved that sound.

Oliver set her down and she pulled back, her eyes dropping to his scruff. The way they lit up made his insides warm. It was more beard at this point than what he’d had last night, giving her more room to scratch her fingers through it.

“I like this,” she said. She bit her lip, and he knew without a doubt that she was remembering how it’d felt on other places of her body. He licked his lips, still tasting her slightly.

He gave her a cheeky grin. “I like that you like it.”

“Well, good,” Felicity replied. “Consider this a vote for you keeping it like this, then.”

“For you?” Oliver breathed, pulling her closer, brushing his lips against hers. “Anything.”

A blush lit up her skin again, this one starting on her chest and traveling up her neck as her lips parted in a shaky sigh, her fingers tightening against his cheeks.

“I had no idea you were this sappy, Oliver Queen,” Felicity said.

“Well, when it comes to you, Felicity Smoak…”

She shook her head, her smile growing, and his grew in return before her lips found his.

Wonder ballooned in his chest as she kissed him, telling him that he wasn’t the only one feeling the awe that went along with it. The rest of the world faded as they just existed together, enjoying the other, the kiss ebbing and flowing, growing deeper before it became soft, lingering kisses. If he had ever wondered if she had ever felt the same way about him, he didn’t have to anymore.

Someone cleared their throat.

Oliver’s first instinct was to pull Felicity closer, crowding her against his chest protectively as he looked up to see who was interrupting them. He was getting a little too good at forgetting they weren’t exactly _alone_ at the moment, that anyone who wanted to could walk right in at any time. Felicity buried her face into his chest, her nose rubbing right over his heart before she looked over her shoulder where Caitlin Snow stood in the doorway.

“Sorry,” Caitlin said, pursing her lips. She looked apologetic, but she also looked so damn amused that her eyes actually sparkled. “I just wanted to tell Felicity I left that moisturizer for her upstairs.”

“Thanks, Caitlin,” Felicity said. The other woman gave a small smile that barely contained her delight in walking in on them like this. “I’ll get it back to you.”

“Take your time,” Caitlin said, and they both knew that she wasn’t just talking about some lotion.

She didn’t waste a second in joining the others outside, reminding Oliver that they were, in fact, definitely not alone.

“Caitlin is my hero,” Felicity told him. “I didn’t exactly plan on getting stranded in the middle of nowhere last night.”

“Oh yeah,” Oliver said with a smile. “ _That_.”

“Yeah, _that_ ,” she replied. She smoothed down his beard. “She is definitely more prepared for things like this, with stuff like face wash, lotion. Deodorant.”

Oliver turned his head, catching her fingers with a light kiss. “I didn’t even think about any of that, I’m sorry.”

“Pfft,” Felicity said, watching his lips brush her fingertips with a smile. “That’s probably a good thing, right? Unless you have a parade of girls going through your room and they just know to bring those things with them.”

“No,” Oliver said, shaking his head. “You’re the first girl I’ve had up there in a long, long time.” He was sure she’d meant it as a joke, as a way to tease him, but this wasn’t something he wanted to be misunderstood between them. Not in the least, and when she heard the seriousness in her voice, she bit her lip. He cuddled her closer to his chest. “Although we do have to run to the store…” She raised an eyebrow, her lids growing heavy, knowing exactly what he meant: _condoms_. “So if you wanted to get something to keep here…” Like she was already planning on coming back, like they’d already talked about it, like she should get something to keep her, almost like a drawer. _For fuck’s sake, Queen._ Oliver stood up a little taller, loosening his hold on her in case she wanted to back up. “Not that I’m assuming you’ll be coming back, because it’s not like I come here every weekend, or that you’ll be coming back here. With me, I mean… I’m not trying to…”

Felicity covered his lips with her fingers. “Sentence fragments,” she whispered, smiling quietly. His shoulders softened at the callback to when they’d been sitting outside, the sun rising. God, had that only been a few hours ago? “I know what you’re saying, Oliver. And… it is a little fast.” He told himself to not react, because there was nothing to react to, but he couldn’t help the way his heart sank at that. “Is it weird that it doesn’t feel fast, though?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, because I feel the same way.”

The grin she gave him was shy and she ducked her head before looking up at him from underneath her lashes.

_I’m going to marry this woman_.

The thought came out of nowhere, hard and fast, and he stopped breathing, his mouth clamping shut so he didn’t accidentally _tell_ her that. But he also knew it. She was the one. Tommy had asked her if she was special, and god, that didn’t even _cover_ it.

Oliver kissed her, gentle enough that it made him feel like he was floating.

With a pleased hum, Felicity pulled back. “So,” she said, looking around. “Need help with anything? I should probably tell you that this is me just being really polite. I burn water.”

“That’s what everyone says.”

“Does everyone have eyewitnesses who are very willing to sign affidavits attesting that they have seen me, Felicity Megan Smoak, burning water?”

A little thrill shot through him at the casual way she mentioned her middle name. _Felicity Megan Smoak._ He was positively starved for more knowledge about her.

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t burn water then.” Oliver turned to the mess he’d left on the cutting board. “I was just cutting up some vegetables before I went outside to start cooking,”

“So you cook?” Felicity asked, and he couldn’t tell if that was skepticism or if she was impressed or some weird mixture of both. He went with both when he caught a glimpse of her face.

“I do,” he replied, lacing his fingers with hers and pulling her over to the counter. “Well, I’m learning. I can definitely grill, but only because I was the only one my grandfather taught how to use his giant ancient grill out there. Both my grandparents were from the south, and whenever we came out here, my grandpa always made sure to teach me the right way to grill and to make what he called ‘no bullshit’ barbeque. For a long time that was all I was able to do, but I stuck around home more than usual this last summer. Raisa put me to work in the kitchen when she got tired of seeing me running laps around the house.”

He felt like he was inundating her with information, but he also couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to. He wanted her to know everything, the good, the bad, the ugly. The painful. Talking about home set his mind down a path of memories he usually avoided, but for the first time in as long as he could remember, he found himself wanting to talk about it with someone. Not just with anyone, though. With her.

“Raisa?” Felicity asked.

“She works for my mom,” Oliver supplied, picking up the knife, using it to clear the cutting board. “For as long as I can remember, she’s been there. She’s always been kind of like a second mom to me. When my dad was, uh… when he passed away, my mom took over for him at the family company, so she wasn’t around as much.” Oliver shook off the memories, only realizing he was squeezing Felicity’s hand too tightly when she brushed his bicep. “Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. “Anyway, Raisa tried teaching me Russian this last summer, too, although I haven’t taken to that quite as well.”

“I didn’t know about your dad,” Felicity said. “I’m sorry.”

“It happened when I was little. He and Tommy’s mom were in the Glades, leaving what was supposed to be a new clinic when they were robbed at gunpoint. They didn’t move fast enough, and, well… my dad tried to fight them off, but one of them had a knife, and then Tommy’s mom…”

“I’m sorry,” Felicity whispered, stepping closer, pressing her face into his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his, and he could feel her infusing comfort through her touch. “I didn’t mean to bring it up, you don’t have to tell me.”

Oliver smiled at her. “It’s okay, it was a long time ago,” he said. “And I want to tell you. I’ve always felt like I could tell you anything.”

A soft, warm satisfaction colored her face and she pressed her face into his shoulder again, like she was hiding her smile. He wanted to see it, but he realized he could in the crinkles around her eyes. The smile was in her eyes as much as on her lips. God, she was beautiful. And she was smiling at him. _For_ him.

His chest was very full as they just grinned at each other.

After a moment, Oliver turned back to the cutting board.

“I, uh… I’ve just started talking to my mom again,” Felicity volunteered. Oliver furrowed his brow in question, wanting to hear more, stopping himself from asking, only wanting to learn more if she wanted him to. She caught the unspoken question. “You know I’m kind of good with computers…”

Oliver smiled with a, “Yeah, I remember.”

It’d been one of the number one reasons they argued when it came to the actual presentation of their shared project, his insistence on pushing back on everything, from the program, right down to the font she chose. He hadn’t really cared, in reality. He’d just wanted her to keep talking to him. Or yelling, as was the case sometimes.

“And my dad, he… He left us when I was little. I thought he had, at least, until I found him. He’s really good with computers, too, like scary good, and he knew I was. He says he didn’t, but I think he left a trail for me to find, one that led me straight to him. And I learned that apparently my mom left him and lied to me, telling me he’d left us.”

“I’m sorry,” Oliver said, abandoning the vegetables, turning to look at her. “That’s totally shitty.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “But she was also right. My dad isn’t a good guy, try as he might. He dabbles in the dark web, doing very not nice things. It was good, though, because it taught me to recognize some not-a-good-guy signs in my last boyfriend. Cooper was on the same road and he almost sucked me into it.”

A hundred different emotions hit Oliver at once: jealousy, as irrational and dumb as it was; anger, that some asshole had tried to pull her into his darkness; fury, that her dad gave her mom a reason to lie at all, and that it always seemed to end in disappointment; and pride, that she was so strong, strong enough to stand up for her ideals, even in the face of her father and her boyfriend.

_Ex-_ boyfriend _._

“I knew when I first met him, too,” Felicity continued. “I had a feeling. I’m definitely someone who takes people at face value. You are what you show me, you know?”

“I showed you a complete and total asshole,” he said, his eyes dancing over her face. “Why in the world did you even look at me twice, much less give me a chance?”

“Because my gut told me that wasn’t you,” Felicity replied. “That that wasn’t the man that I…” She paused and his heart _dropped_. “That I… that I see when I look at you. It wasn’t before, either, even though you gave me pretty much every reason ever to believe otherwise. So that’s one thing you’ll learn about me. I’m very stubborn.” Oliver smiled, brushing some hair off her face. She turned into his touch, returning his smile. “I’m trying to listen to my gut more. And my gut likes you. All my guts do, actually. Which I realize sounds really weird. It makes me think about guts and viscera, and that’s an unappetizing image, isn’t it, like you all wrapped up in my _viscera_ and wow, that’s not very sexy-”

Oliver cut her off with a kiss, unable to keep his grin off his face.

“My gut likes you,” Oliver said against her lips. “It has for a long time. _All_ of my viscera likes you.” She giggled and _god_ , he loved that sound. “Thank you for listening to your gut.”

Felicity pulled back to look him in the eye. “Thanks for being a good guy.”

As if he wasn’t already gone for her, that sent him into a spiral, one that had happiness and warmth exploding inside him. He really had given her every reason in the world to walk away from him. Hell, he’d pushed her away. And yet here she was, giving him one more chance. It was amazing and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure he was the good guy she saw when she looked at him. He didn’t deserve it, not after everything, but he also couldn’t let her go.

“So,” Felicity said, pulling him back to the moment. She cocked her head. “Russian, huh?”

He nodded. “Russian.”

“Can you say anything?”

“I can say a few things, like…” Oliver’s voice lowered as he leaned in, whispering, “ _Vy prekrasny_ ,” into her ear. He knew without Raisa being there to tsk at him that his accent was butchering the hell out of the words, but he was pretty sure he got the pronunciation right. He definitely got the tone right, which Felicity read perfectly, if the pleased blush that colored her cheeks was any indication.

His accent might be shit, but he could definitely speak Russian seductively.

“What’s that mean?” she asked, her eyes darting down to his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, the words coming out as the statement that they were. A pleased look fluttered over her face, a gorgeous smile quick to follow as she bit her lip, something he was starting to notice she did when he said something that might make her blush. He loved it and all he wanted to do was whisper more things like that to her, but then her stomach growled. Her eyes widened in surprise and he chuckled, grabbing another knife. “You wanna help me cut these up and then we’ll go outside?”

“Before my stomach eats us both?” Felicity asked. His stomach gurgled next and she laughed. “Or each other.”

“Eating each other,” Oliver mused. “I _was_ just fine with what I was eating upstairs.”

Felicity’s eyes widened for a very different reason this time and she smacked his arm. He grinned, shooting her a wink before she moved to the sink to wash her hands.

That was mistake number one. Well, no, actually his bringing up how his face had been buried between her legs just a few minutes ago was the first mistake. The second mistake was he didn’t look away when she sauntered over to the sink, so he caught every single bit of her shapely legs where they were encased in the thin black pants, as well as the hint of skin at her back when she leaned over for the soap. It occurred to him that he hadn’t spent nearly enough time worshiping the damn fine shape that was her ass. God, she had to have been working out since the last time he saw her, or maybe it was the pants? Either way, that needed to be rectified.

He should probably clean his hands again.

Yeah. For health reasons.

Just as Felicity turned on the water and started soaping up her fingers, Oliver stepped up behind her and reached around, covering her hands. She made a startled little noise before letting out a tiny little laugh when his fingers laced with hers, getting just as soapy.

The sound morphed into a gasp when he pressed the length of his body against her backside.

It was bold and a little dangerous considering how close to the edge they’d been upstairs, but Oliver didn’t care, and neither did she. A burst of euphoria hit his chest that he was able to do this at all as he pushed her into the counter, dipping down to rub the bulge in his jeans right against her ass. The joy mixed with the pleasure, making him feel faint in a way that had him gripping her hands for strength. She held him back just as tight and he nuzzled his way through her hair until he reached her neck. Her head fell to the side, and he took complete advantage of it, his tongue darting out to taste her.

She rotated her ass right against him, and he was so fucking sensitive that he shuddered, his eyes fluttering shut with a moan.

_Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea_.

Common sense flew right out the window a second later, though, as she whispered his name, her fingers tightening around his as she moved to grip the edge of the sink. Using it as leverage, she lifted herself up, rubbing against him.

Stars exploded against his lids, the combination of her soft ass and the tough denim against his painfully hard dick sending spiking pleasure straight through him.

Oliver hissed out a series of unintelligible curses and he dug his face into her throat, dragging his face up her jaw, his cheek brushing against hers.

“We should…” she started, her voice strained, fading, the opposite of convincing.

“Yeah,” Oliver replied, his breath sending spare strands of her hair brushing against his lips.

They should stop, but for a second he had absolutely no intention of doing that. No, his mind was already jumping ahead a couple of spaces, running through all the various places on the main floor he could pull her into and ravage her. It didn’t occur to him that they still didn’t have a condom, or that people were waiting for them outside, or that they had things to do. He just didn’t _care_. All he cared about was the woman in his arms, that she was here, with him, and that his feelings for her combining with the lust racing through his veins was exhilarating.

But he _should_ stop. Because he didn’t want to do that to her, he reminded himself. The sappy side that she’d just teased him about wanted to make it as special and perfect as possible, preferably in his bed and with protection so he didn’t give himself a goddamn heart attack afterwards wondering if he’d pulled out soon enough.

Oliver suddenly stopped moving, pinning her to the counter. She whimpered her displeasure, just as caught up as he was - and god, that alone had him positively fucking _floating_ \- but she didn’t move either. At least not the way he thought she would.

Felicity let his hands go and spun in his arms, looking up at him from under heavy lids. It was too close to a come hither look and he groaned, falling against her, his lips slanting over hers. Her soapy hands landed on his chest, curling in his t-shirt as he grabbed her hips with equally soapy fingers, pulling her close.

He was so damn insatiable for her. She burned through him, scorching through his veins, setting him on fire in a way that he’d never felt before. That was addicting. That made him want _more_ … and more she gave him. Felicity kissed him back with equal ardor, using his shirt to tug him down to her height. She moaned, just loud enough for him to hear, and it sent him into overdrive, notching up the need between them to blinding levels.

Neither of them heard the balcony door opening, or the sudden buzz of conversation outside, or the sound of someone’s exasperated sigh.

“Oh my god,” Tommy said, and that was loud enough to pierce the bubble they were caught in. They broke apart with heavy pants, Oliver jerking away from her like he’d just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Tommy was trying his hardest to keep from smiling as he pointed at them. “I’m separating you two. You guys are not allowed to be in the same room without supervision, you obviously can’t be trusted.” The words hung in the air between all three of them, right before Tommy burst out laughing. It was a loud boisterous noise that had both Oliver and Felicity chuckling with him. “Hell has frozen over,” Tommy declared. “I’m cockblocking my best friend in the worst way possible. I’d be sorry, except I’m starving, so at the same time…”

“Right,” Oliver said, nodding. He moved to scrub his face, but his hands were still soapy.

“And you, Ms. Smoak,” Tommy said, walking around the counter towards Oliver’s girlfriend, “are coming with me. Well, if you want it done right, at least.”

Oliver’s best friend grinned at his own words, and Felicity rolled her eyes at him, saying something that Oliver missed as she rinsed her hands clean of soap before turning the water off. He missed it - as well as the opportunity to smack Tommy upside the head - because he was thinking of her as his girlfriend and he forced himself to take a mental step back, because they hadn’t discussed labels yet. His mind raced, trying to distract himself from his painful arousal. So was she his… lady friend? A quote from The Big Lebowski stomped through Oliver’s head, which was an ironic thing considering he was doing the opposite of wanting to help his lady friend conceive.

Tommy held true to his word, though, physically separating them by crowding Oliver out of the way as he guided Felicity out of the kitchen.

She tried to reach around Tommy to give Oliver a kiss, and they almost succeeded, but Tommy let out a loud, “Whoa, hey, no, we know how that ends,” and got in the way. Felicity’s lips almost landed on Tommy’s and Oliver almost really did slap his friend away. But then they were already on their way out of the kitchen, leaving Oliver leaning against the kitchen island, soap dripping from his fingers with a serious goddamn problem in his pants.

“Hurry your ass up,” Tommy shouted over his shoulder right before he said something Oliver couldn’t hear to Felicity, something that made her giggle, just before they stepped outside, shutting Oliver in.

It was that sound more than anything that had Oliver rushing through the rest of the veggie preparations, shoving all of them on a large plate before going outside to join them.

Despite the epic hard-on and epic case of blue balls that Oliver sported - one that wasn’t made better by Tommy’s offhand comments or Kevin’s dumbassery about all of this happening because of him or his being close to Felicity in general - the rest of the day was…

It was _perfect_.

The sun was shining, but the surrounding fields kept a cool breeze blowing every few minutes so it wasn’t stifling. There was plenty of alcohol left and more than enough food, despite Oliver’s lack of preparation. He got more than a few good-natured complaints, to which he apologized, but everyone could tell he didn’t really mean it. He had zero regrets about how he’d spent his morning.

And with whom.

That was another thing that made the day shine brighter than the sun: the Felicity who had walked through the door last night was nowhere to be seen.

She’d been upset and flustered when she first arrived, soaked to the bone and her bad mood had only tanked more when she saw whose house she had stumbled into. Judging by the way she’d floated through the part last night, Oliver assumed she didn’t know anyone here, but he was damn wrong. She seemed to know everyone, and if she didn’t know them, she flashed them her beautiful smile, pulling them happily into her joyful gravity.

She was _happy_. Because of him? That idea was a heady one. He let himself wonder, let himself hope that was the case as he watched her throughout the afternoon. The sun was high in the sky, but rays had nothing on the pure light she emanated.

Tommy called it _‘getting Smoaked’_ at one point, and that was the perfect way to describe it. His best friend was enamored with her, just as much as everyone she interacted with.

None so much as Oliver, though.

Oh she’d definitely done something to him the first time he saw her, but when she talked to him?

_Smoaked._

And now she was here, with him.

Oliver wanted to pinch himself.

He didn’t have to, it turned out, because Tommy was ever so happy to do it for him.

“Do it again, and you lose a hand,” Oliver growled at him, but it only made Tommy cackle - it was an actual cackle, and it grabbed Felicity’s attention. She turned, and her smile grew when she spotted Oliver threatening the Merlyn jerk with a spatula. She shielded her eyes from the sun just as Oliver turned back to her.

The grin they shared was blinding.

And then Tommy pinched him again.

“For fuck’s sake,” Oliver snapped before giving chase.

Someone eventually turned on some music as food was passed around.

When everyone was satisfied, when the rest of the meat was grilled up and people were diving in for seconds, he grabbed a few burgers himself, looking around for Felicity. He found her sitting next to Caitlin and Ronnie on the steps, in the exact spot he’d been sitting in when she found him that very morning, wrapped in his grandmother’s quilt. He felt cheesy as hell that everything that’d happened since she showed up felt like it was kismet.

“Hey,” he said as he came up behind her.

Felicity had just taken a drink of whatever was in her red cup as she looked up, giving him a smile. She waved for him to come down the stairs, opening her legs for him to sit between them. He smiled, settling in between her spread thighs, leaning back just enough to lean against her before he started diving in. When she was done with her burger \- she had red peppers on it, he noticed, which made his stomach flip all over itself - she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing the back of his head. Just like that they were back in their own little bubble as she scooted closer to him, propping her feet in his lap as she leaned down to whisper in his ear how sweaty he was. He chuckled, falling back against her, rubbing his head into her chest, making her laugh.

It was simple and easy and fun and…

_Perfect_.

They eventually migrated up to the tables.

Oliver grabbed his hat when he felt his head starting to sunburn, but it wasn’t enough so he grabbed the table umbrellas and spread those out to keep the rare sunny day from melting everyone.

At one point, Caitlin had her phone out, taking pictures, and she snapped a few of him and Felicity. He didn’t realize it until later, though, when he saw Felicity looking at them. Her cheeks pinkened under her already sun-kissed skin and her eyes darted to him for a split second before asking Caitlin to text them to her.  After that Felicity made her way to his side. He wrapped his arm around her waist, squinting up at her. Before he could ask, she leaned over, cupping his jaw, kissing him gently.

They lingered like that for a long moment, her fingers stroking his beard, his hand making a tight fist in her shirt.

When she pulled back, he whispered, “What was that for?”

“Just because,” she replied, smiling.

That had him pulling her back in for another one.

It wasn’t long before the sun started setting, stealing the day’s warmth with it.

Oliver grabbed the leftover candles from the party for outside, leaving the floodlights off to keep some of the bugs away. He grabbed the quilt from this morning, the one his grandmother had made, the one they’d cuddled in just that very morning as they watched the sun rise, and laced his fingers with Felicity’s, pulling her out further into the yard.

She followed him without hesitation, something that made his chest balloon as he made his way out to the split rail fence surrounding the property. The noise of the party faded, leaving just them, safely ensconced in their little bubble as they sat on the fence. He wrapped them both in the quilt, just like that morning, and they watched the sun go down, Felicity’s head fitting perfectly in the crook of Oliver’s neck. When the chill in the air became too much, she burrowed into him, her lips brushing against his throat. Oliver didn’t even have to think as he touched her chin, turning her face up to his, their lips brushing. A hot and heavy makeout managed to stave off the cool air, but then Felicity’s hand wound up under his shirt and they almost lost their balance, resulting in laughter that made his stomach hurt.

Tommy’s catcalls had them coming back to the party.

It wasn’t long, though, before reality started setting in, before people started leaving.

Oliver’s heart slowly climbed into his throat as he started wondering what was going to happen tonight, tomorrow…

The more people who left, the more he found himself thinking he should have just taken Felicity upstairs when he had the chance, stolen a few more hours for themselves before the real world started barging in. Every time he’d pulled her to the side to ask what her plan was for the night, they either got interrupted or the words dried up in his mouth. There was time, there was always time… until there wasn’t.

Oliver didn’t realize how late it was until he glanced at the time on the oven.

It was nearly ten o’clock.

_Damn it._

He should think about heading back into the city himself - would she want to go with him, or would she go back to her place? He didn’t even know where she was living these days, or what her schedule was for tomorrow, or if she was working part-time like she’d mentioned before. The temptation to just throw her over his shoulder and forget about the world was nearly strong enough for him to drop the dishes he was holding and head out and get her. The day had whipped by in a blur of happiness and that it’d only made him want more.

Felicity materialized at his side.

Her presence instantly soothed him, despite his thoughts.

“Hey, you,” he said, his smile all the greeting she needed to tell her exactly where his brain was. She licked her lips, returning his smile, but he knew something was off when she didn’t immediately sidle up next to him like they’d been doing all day, just enjoying each other’s company. _Oh no._ Oliver opened his mouth to say, “What’s going on?” but she was already talking.

“Ronnie thinks it’s just the battery in my car,” she said. “So I’m going to catch a ride with him and Caitlin to see if he can jump it for me.”

And there it was.

The real world had come for them.

He knew this was coming, knew that she would eventually have to leave and they would have to go back to reality where things wouldn’t be anything like what today had been. Today had been the definition of perfection, but it couldn’t last forever. And it shouldn’t.

That didn’t stop him from wanting it to, from wanting to hold onto her and never let go.

Goddamn it, he was applying way more meaning to things than he should, and he knew it, but he also couldn’t help it. Things felt precarious all of a sudden - they hadn’t had the easiest start, not by any means, and it’d only gotten rockier as time went on, and it was only that morning that things had changed between them. He told himself to knock it off, but he couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in his gut.

She saw all of it.

Felicity bit her lip. “Either that face is you saying you ate too much or you don’t want me coming back.”

“God no, I definitely want you to come back,” he said, running his hands up and down her arms. _I don’t want you to leave_. He knew he was being irrational on some level. He _knew_ it, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing her hands, pulling her closer. “We just haven’t really, you know, talked.”

“I know,” Felicity replied. She gave him a warm smile, bringing their clasped hands up between them. “But we will.”

_But what if we don’t?_

He barely kept himself from rolling his eyes at himself. On one hand he didn’t want to let her go, not for anything, but on the other hand, he was starting to wonder if this was something he had to do. Let her go, trust her to come back. He’d done it before, with the project, but it’d taken _months_ to even see her again. _What was he doing?_ Oliver cursed at himself - he was making it seem like she was going off to war. One day of having this woman in his life and he was already waxing poetry about his feelings and what things meant or could mean or should mean… 

Keep it simple, he told himself.

“You have class in the morning?” Oliver asked.

She made a face. “Yeah.”

“If it’s too late by the time your car’s done,” he said, “I want you to go home. By the time you get back here and by the time we get to sleep…” He grinned, and she chuckled, her blush rising to match his. “It won’t leave much time for actual sleep.” Her brows furrowed, and it was obvious she thought he was going somewhere else with this. “We can talk tomorrow.”

Felicity stared at him for a long moment, not saying anything and as the silence pressed on, his stomach started sinking.

He couldn’t tell what she was thinking and it suddenly hit him that he was basically giving her an out if she really didn’t want to come back. _For fuck’s sake._ Where the hell was all the courage from this morning? But it was different now, because it might have just been a day, but he was in love with her. Holy _shit_ , he was in love with her. He had been, even when he thought she hated him. Today had just pulled all those feelings to the surface, solidifying them. What if he’d come on too strong and she felt obligated? Or she realized that it was simple lust on her part, and she didn’t want a relationship? He was in, he was all in, and he didn’t want her to feel like she should be too…

“Felicity…”

“Do you want me to come back?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied instantly. “I do. But only if…”

“Shut up, Oliver,” Felicity interrupted, her fingers covering his mouth. “I want to come back. I want to get my car because it’s literally lost in a jungle somewhere, and then I want to come back here. I don’t care about tomorrow, okay, or where we have to be or… or…” She suddenly frowned. “Unless this is you trying to get rid of me.” Her eyes widened, her hand falling away. “Oh my god, did I just totally misread this entire thing? I’m doing it again. You’re trying to brush me off and I’m-”

Oliver couldn’t even _comprehend_ her words, or that his own fears were mirroring hers.

“Felicity,” he whispered before cupping her face and kissing her.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, couldn’t believe that she thought for even one second that he wasn’t all in, that he didn’t want this, or her, and that he would try to weasel his way out of it… except wasn’t that what he was trying to let her do, if she wanted?

_What the hell was he doing?_

Oliver pulled back with another hushed gasp of her name, but just as quickly as they’d gotten off-track, they were suddenly on the same page again. Felicity pulled his lips back to hers, pushing up onto her toes to wrap her arms around his shoulders. He sighed, melting against her.

This was how they found each other again, removing all the complications of their very bad habit of assuming.

“How…” Felicity whispered against his lips, “are we both totally aware of what’s happening but not at the same time?”

Oliver huffed out a soft, “I don’t know,” shaking his head.

She pulled back to look at him. “Why don’t we settle it right now,” she suggested. Felicity stared at him, and the intensity in her eyes made his heart flutter. “I like you, Oliver Jonas Queen, and I want to be with you.”

Oliver smiled. “I like you, Felicity Megan Smoak,” he replied. “And I definitely want to be with you.”

Felicity nodded, fully expecting that answer, already trucking along to whatever was next. But he didn’t miss the pleasure that suffused her face before she straightened it again. Yeah, he definitely needed to tell her how he felt all the time, because they both clearly suffered from the same tendency towards misconceptions, but also because he wanted to see that little flicker of happiness that he was the cause of.

And that never failed to make his insides warm and fuzzy.

“And I want to come back tonight,” she continued. “I want to spend the night with you, Oliver Queen, and not just because of your tongue.” Horror skated through her eyes before they slammed shut. “Pretend I didn’t just say that that way.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Oliver replied with a grin that was borderline wicked. “I want you to come for my tongue.” She blushed and it was so gorgeous, but then he got more serious. “I want you to spend the night, too,” he whispered, gripping her tight. “I want you to stay.”

_Every night._

_Forever._

Felicity smiled. “Then it’s settled. I’m spending the night.” She sighed. “I feel like that should not have been that hard.”

Oliver chuckled. “I think,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers, “that we got used to only communicating when we were at each other’s throats.”

“We are very good at that,” Felicity replied. “Probably a little too good. We’ve had too much practice with yelling at each other and being super passive aggressive otherwise. It’s habit. We have bad habits. We’ve barely been dating and we already have bad habits.”

A warm glow filled his chest at the word _dating_. But she was right. They were both on edge, thinking the other only had one foot in, ready to bolt if they needed to. He wasn’t going anywhere, though, and while there was a voice in the back of his head depending a little too much on their history to make assumptions about what was going to happen next, he knew when he looked into her eyes that she was just as much there with him as he was with her.

“So let’s stop that that,” Oliver said. “Honestly, from here on out. We say what’s on our minds and we always talk to each other if something comes up.”

She didn’t hesitate a second. “Honesty,” Felicity said with a nod, shaking his hand. “So, in the spirit of honesty…” She bit her lip. “I really wanna kiss you right now.”

Oliver laughed, intertwining their fingers to pull her back into his arms. “And I really want to you kiss you,” he said before she captured his lips.

It was a new beginning, one on top of all the others he’d already had today. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten lucky enough to get a chance to right his wrongs _and_ get the girl, but he wasn’t going to waste it. Not a single second.

The kiss reflected all of that, staying soft, simple, tender. Her lips lingered against his in gentle kisses as she pushed herself up onto her toes to get closer with a quiet hum. He felt it vibrate into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, wanting her as close as he could possibly get her.

“You know she’s coming back, right?” a voice asked, piercing the bubble. “I’m just jump-starting her car, not kidnapping her.” They didn’t budge an inch, both looking over to see a smirking Ronnie staring at them. Caitlin appeared over his shoulder with a smile. Ronnie waved at them. “Come on, the quicker you let her go, the quicker she’ll get back.”

“Call me if you need anything,” Oliver said to Felicity. He paused. “You still have my number, right?”

“I do,” she confirmed before pausing. “I did think about deleting it _a lot_ , though. But I never did. Although I did change your name to something a little more… accurate. Well, at the time it was accurate. Like, really accurate. I suppose I should change it back now.”

“Why, what’d you call me?”

“Jerk Face,” she admitted. He chuckled, because that wasn’t so bad. “Not that original, although it did change in degree. Sometimes you were just Jerk Face, and sometimes when I was really angry you were Dick Face. And one time it was Fuck Face.” Oliver let out a shocked laugh over the sound of Ronnie’s chuckles, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise and outrage. Felicity pointed at him. “Hey, that was deserved. It was after you almost ruined my laptop with that stupid latte.”

“Yeah,” Oliver said., “I definitely had a hard learning curve when it came to Felicity Smoak and her tech.”

“Darn right.”

“Alright, you two,” Ronnie said, coming up behind them. He unwound Oliver’s arm to put space between them, shaking his head. “Tommy wasn’t joking.”

“About what?” Felicity asked.

“He told me I’d need the jaws of life to pry you two apart.” Ronnie waved his finger between them. “You two have it bad. Like making-people-around-you-want-to-heave bad.”

“It is not like that,” Caitlin interjected, swatting Ronnie’s shoulder. “I think it’s sweet.”

Felicity smiled at her with a, “Thank you, Caitlin,” before turning to Ronnie. “See? We’re sweet.” Before Ronnie could respond, she turned to Oliver. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Be careful,” Oliver replied, giving her a chaste kiss. “And call me if you need me.”

“It’s right down the street, Oliver.”

“Still.” Oliver kissed her again and then clapped Ronnie on the shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Alright, let’s vamoose!”

“Vamoose?” Felicity repeated as Oliver watched them file out of the kitchen. “Does anybody say that anymore? Hang on, let me go grab my bag.” Before they disappeared from view, Felicity paused to glance over her shoulder, catching his eye.

Oliver winked at her and she smiled before she ran upstairs.

He waited until she was back, until they were piled into Ronnie’s truck and rumbling down the driveway before he turned to the house.

A few stragglers remained, but they were on their way out, including Tommy. When his best friend offered to help, Oliver declined - he needed something to do while he waited for Felicity to get back. And the last time Tommy had helped him clean he’d found a horde of beer bottles under two of the couches.

The clean-up went quickly, quicker than Oliver anticipated. They had a cleaning service, but the second he found out his grandparents had left this house to him, the days of leaving old vomit on toilets and spilt beer everywhere were in the past.

He cleaned up as best he could. He separated the recycling out to appease his mom, and he cleaned up all the candles, rearranging the furniture, cleaning up the deck and grill. When he did a sweep upstairs, he found that most of the rooms were intact - all of the sheets needed to be cleaned, holy hell - and, the best news he’d had since Felicity had left, he found a stash of condoms. He deposited those into his room, paused for a long moment to revel in the domesticity of Felicity’s clothes still in the bathroom, before going downstairs to take the trash out.

By the time he was done, it was nearing eleven.

And still no Felicity.

Grabbing his phone - no calls or texts - Oliver got a glass of water and plopped down on the couch, pushing the button for the TV to rise out of the stand hidden next to the fireplace. It’d been a long time since he’d stayed here long enough to just watch TV - the sound helped fill the empty house, and it gave him a place to focus his eyes, not that he really needed it.

His brain was filled with only one thing:

_Felicity_.

Flipping through the channels, Oliver settled in…

He didn’t remember falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a rude as hell cliffhanger! The next update will make up for it, I promise!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed the update! Next update will be on Wednesday!
> 
> Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity spend the night together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have words for how much the response to this fic means to me! Every single comment and kudos and reblog and retweet, it's amazing. Thank you! And now the chapter we've all been waiting for...
> 
> Quickly! Two more songs that were sent to me for this fic, and I have to share them! [True Colors by The Weeknd](https://open.spotify.com/track/1oGdVdYjeQvojGKDddxLQQ) via coal000, [Slow Hands by Niall Horan](https://open.spotify.com/track/27vTihlWXiz9f9lJM3XGVU) via ellefraser17, and [1+1 by Beyonce](https://open.spotify.com/track/1pzJboOZaDNwshBnOlNh3a) via emme_e. Ugh, _such feels i cannot._
> 
> This wouldn't be anything without my amazing beta Margaret. She does so much for me and I'm so grateful!
> 
> Enjoy!

_He didn’t remember falling asleep._

One second he was watching an old movie about jet fighters and the next someone was carding their fingers through his hair.

 _Felicity_.

She was back.

_Finally._

Oliver turned into the touch, smiling when his nose brushed the inside of her wrist.

Not opening his eyes, he nuzzled his face into her arm before reaching for her. His hand found her legs first where she was curled up next to him. He sighed, his palm skating over her knee and thigh, up over her hip to her waist. His smile grew as he turned his entire body towards her, wrapping her up, folding into her. She said something that sounded a lot like, “I didn’t mean to wake you,” but he just hummed, angling himself so he could bury his face in her chest.

When his mouth passed over her breast, she let out a breathy giggle, smoothing his hair down as she wrapped herself around him in turn.

It was the best fucking way he could ever be woken up, he decided - his Felicity, warm and perfect, fitting so wonderfully against him, her giggles echoing her quickening under his ear.

“Mmm.” Oliver cuddled into her. “You feel so good.”

He could hear the smile on her lips as she replied, “So do you.”

Oliver nose brushed the opening of her shirt, her skin so soft against him. He didn’t stop there, moving until he found her breast again. Her nipple was harder this time and when his lips hit it, she gave him a stilted gasp. His body tightened, his jeans becoming constricting as he did it again. Her nails dug into his scalp, silently urging him on.

He waited for the inevitable interruption, bracing himself to pull away from her because they weren’t alone… except they were alone. Everyone had left. They had the entire house to themselves.

Urgent need cut through him.

“What time is it?” he whispered, the words a raspy mess.

“It’s after midnight,” Felicity replied, kissing the top of his head.

The tiny gesture made him melt, but not enough to distract from what she said. “Midnight?” He held her a little tighter, hating that she’d been out there without him. He snuggled into the warmth of her shirt - no way in hell he was taking it back; this shirt was _hers_ \- wanting to get closer to her at just the thought of her being out there for _two hours._ “Why did it take so long? Did you get your car okay?”

“I did,” Felicity replied. “I think next time I’m going to leave breadcrumbs for myself because we couldn’t find it. That’s what took so long. Apparently I’d gotten turned around. I thought I was walking back towards the way I came, but I actually went down a totally different road and didn’t even know it. So my car was tucked in this weird tree hole…” She cuddled closer to him, laying her cheek against the crown of his head. When her glasses got in the way, she huffed, taking them off and setting them on the side table next to the couch before returning to her spot. “We even drove by it once before we saw it. And then there was getting it jumped, which was fine, but Ronnie thinks I should get a new battery, and I said I would. And then he lectured me about just going home and having you go to my apartment and then we talked about how _far_ that was and what time it was and he said my car might not start without a jump again and long story short, I hope you have jumper cables because I might need them in the morning.”

Considering how late it was and how little sleep he’d gotten this weekend, it was a damn miracle he’d followed all of that. Although he’d always been able to. He never missed anything when it came to Felicity Smoak. And he definitely didn’t miss that just one tiny change last night and she never would have appeared at the party. She’d had a hellish night getting caught in the rain like that, but it’d ended with her on his doorstep and for that he would always be grateful.

And she’d specifically chosen to come back here, despite being told what could happen otherwise.

His heart brimmed over with happiness.

“I have some,” Oliver said. He was sure there were some in the shed, at least, and he’d damn well go find a store to buy some if he had to. He rooted around until he found her hardening nipple again. Felicity sighed, pressing her face against the crown of his head again as he wrapped his lips around it. There were too many damn layers, though, and his mouth watered at the thought of pulling it into his mouth again, of doing so much more than that, of laying her back, undressing her, _tasting_ her…

His dick jumped to life, straining against hard denim as he bit down on her breast, making her whine his name. The hair on the back of his neck rose and he bit down harder, eliciting a small cry.

It was perfect and he wanted more.

Oliver gasped her name before abruptly sitting up, pulling her with him.

She let out a startled sound, her arms tightening around him as he sat back, hauling her into his lap, his hands coming up to her face, to guide her lips to his. She was already halfway there, though, her own needy whisper on her lips before her mouth covered his. Oliver immediately opened for her. They were suddenly back to that morning, all the need and desire and emotions surging to the surface. Except now it was even more vivid, because they’d had the day together. It’d been a another brand of intimacy - quick kisses, holding hands, laughing with friends, watching the sun go down - and now it was a fuel to the fire. They kissed with the same urgency, but with a new tenderness that hadn’t been there before. Today spoke to what they were capable of, what it would be like going forward, how things might be when they got to know each other all over again, when they shared more than just a day, more than their months of anger.

He couldn’t _wait_.

Felicity crowded him back against the couch cushions, grinding her hips down. His dick swelled even more than it already had and wrapped his arms around her, one hand gripping her shoulder, pulling her down even harder as the other drifted down her back, her spine, to her ass. _God_ , he loved her ass. Where this morning he’d been so much more tentative, afraid to do something that might scare her away, now he gave in. He gripped her hard, pulling at her ass just as much as he pushed her even closer to him. She gave him delicate little cries, her entire body clenching in response as she kissed him harder.

It was heaven, absolute heaven. He slid his fingers down, between her cheeks, finding her sex. Even through the thin pants, he could tell she was wet - _for him_ \- and the heat, god, it scorched him. He curled around her as much as humanly possible as he pushed his hand further between her legs. He stiffened his fingers, rubbing them against her. Felicity let out a guttural moan, one he swallowed up, and shoved her hands into the collar of his shirt. Her fingers spasmed, her nails digging into his flesh, like the feeling of his skin against hers was too much, and it made every inch of him soar. Because he knew exactly how she felt.

For a long moment, they sat there, Felicity in his lap, riding both his bulge and his fingers through her pants, her hard nipples pushed against his chest, her hands migrating from underneath his shirt to his hair where she gripped the strands tightly as they drank from each other.

This morning they’d had to wait, but now they didn’t, and the reality of that sent heat rushing through his veins.

He growled, pulling her closer, delighting in the feel of her breasts pushing into him.

“Oh, _damn it_ ,” Felicity moaned, pulling back. Instinct had him moving after her, his lips finding hers again, and she gave in… but then she pulled back, just enough to speak. “I have an idea,” she whispered against his lips. The sensation was too much and Oliver captured her bottom lip between his, sucking on it, his teeth grazing it. She whimpered for him, her hips jerking against his, making his eyes roll back into his head… but she wasn’t done. “I’m clean,” she said. That caught his attention and he pulled back. “I don’t, like, sleep around or anything, but I do… sleep if the occasion calls for it - and by the occasion I mean I kinda just want to, which I damn well can because why should men only get that pleasure, and I’m babbling. Okay, um… three, two…. one. I’m…” She huffed out a breath, and Oliver furrowed his brow, trying to follow her logic through the haze of desire. “I get tested, so I’m clean. Are you? Clean, I mean, like… safe? It’s ironic I’m asking that right now because I didn’t care this morning, at all, but I’m about to suggest something that is the opposite of safe in so many ways and maybe an abundance of safety could counteract any non-safe thing… But it _is_ safe, but it’s not, because stuff can still happen, but… _god_ , Oliver, I need you and I am shockingly close to saying I just don’t care what happens and that’s a little scary and I need to know…”

“Felicity.”

She paused, inhaling quickly, like she hadn’t been breathing. Probably because she hadn’t.

Oliver sat back to look at her, cupping her face, smoothing his fingers down her jaw…

His chest constricted at the sight she made. Her hair was mussed, her lips red and swollen, beard burn decorating the tender skin around her mouth. Her eyes were glazed with need, her face flushed with pleasure. Fuck, she was _stunning_ , and every inch of him yearned towards her, almost forgetting what she’d been saying. Her eyes danced over his face and he wondered if she saw his thoughts because her pupils blew wide, and she shifted, her hips rotating against his in the tiniest movement. Oliver’s lids fluttered shut of their own volition, but he forced them open again, unwilling to look away from her.

“Wh-what… um…” He cleared his throat, his hands dropping to her hips to stop her movements. “What are you asking me?”

“I was going to stop,” she said.

He frowned. “What?”

“When I was out,” she clarified breathlessly. “Earlier, I mean. For condoms. Because now we don’t have any and I’m about three seconds from asking how you feel about the pull-out method.” His eyes widened - _oh_ , her babble suddenly made a lot more sense and holy shit, she’d been suggesting they go bareback. “But that’s dumb, right? That’s just… insane. I should go back out, because we need condoms. Now, right now.” His brain was spinning, for about a thousand different reasons, and it spun out of control when she arched her back, pressing her heat against him with even more alacrity as she pressed her lips to his again, moaning, “God, I _need_ you, Oliver. I can’t believe how much I need you inside me-”

“I found some,” Oliver interrupted. “Upstairs. We have condoms.”

“We do?” Felicity repeated. “Then why are we just sitting here?”

 _That’s an excellent fucking question_.

But when Felicity started to climb off of him, he knew the answer.

Oliver wound his arms around her, trapping her against his chest. He wanted to laugh at how much more control he felt in this instance, because the need to tell her how he felt overpowered his need for this woman. No, the feelings were equal, just on separate wavelengths, but no less powerful. He wanted to be inside her, he wanted to fucking bury himself as deep as he could and never fucking leave, but he also _needed_ her to know that this was good, too, in its own way, that as long as he had her, in any way, shape or form, he was _good_.

“Because…” he whispered against her lips, “because the thought of not touching you when you’re right here drives me fucking insane.” Her breath hitched, her nails digging into him. “Because I never thought I’d get the chance to see you again, much less talk to you, much less…” Oliver’s arms turned to steel around her, pulling her down against him with so much force that she cried out. “Much less touch you, and kiss you… _feel you_ like this…”

He ran his hands down her sides and up her back. She was so responsive, arching into his touch as much as shivering from it.

“God, Oliver,” Felicity breathed. “This is crazy.”

“What?”

“I want to drag you upstairs, but I also really love hearing you say stuff like that.” She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s… _ridiculous_. I don’t know what I’m feeling or what I should be feeling or what this is-”

“But it’s good?” he asked, pulling back to see her better. He brushed hair off her face. “It’s a good feeling?”

“Yes,” she sighed, her voice cracking. “I want both… I want you and I want you talking to me like that, because _god_ , it’s…” Her lips brushed his. “I want all of it.”

And then she was kissing him again.

With a groan Oliver shoved his hands into her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss.

They were too close to the precipice this time. The second her lips touched his, he lost any and all self-control he had and damn near devoured her. His feelings for her filled him to the brim, flooding his senses so he felt them in very brush of her skin against his, every gasp they shared, every breath, rivaled only by the actual sensation of having her in his arms. Her kisses were electric, addicting, and he wanted more, more, more…

Oliver sat up more fully, scooting to the edge of the couch. His hands dropped to her legs, making sure they were wound tight around his waist, before he grabbed her ass, the other wrapping around her back, and stood up.

Felicity clung to him.

Oliver had spent a lot of summers in this house. He knew exactly where everything was, down to the cracks in the hardwood floor. But in this moment, he didn’t know a damn thing. Every inch of his focus was on the woman cradled in his arms, on kissing her, chasing her eager moans and finding new ways to make her shiver against him. So he didn’t see the corner of the couch that rammed into his thigh or the lamp they brushed by, nearly sending it crashing to the ground. He didn’t see the wall they narrowly missed or the banister of the stairs that he almost walked into.

He definitely _felt_ all of it, though.

Growling under his breath, Oliver gripped her tight, making sure she was plastered to his body before his other arm swung out, hitting the wall with a thud. His hand brushed the hanging frames there as he slowly started climbing the steps, moaning his displeasure whenever Felicity’s kisses slowed down.

He didn’t care how long it too him to get up these steps, he was going to do it without losing a single second with her.

They were a couple feet up the stairs when his foot hit the next step, almost making him trip. It was only because Oliver was going so damn slow that he didn’t fall and crash right onto the precious bundle in his arms.

Oliver froze with a grumbled, “Fuck,” his arm flying back to protect Felicity before he really did fall.  “Stupid fucking…”

He hiked her closer, ready to start all over again when he felt it.

She was _giggling_.

Felicity’s body shook with laughter, her curves rubbing against him with as the full-bodied giggles radiated through her chest and into his. It was adorable and gorgeous and _contagious_ and before Oliver knew what he was doing he was laughing with her.

Oliver hummed, leaning against the banister of the stairs. “I guess the first night we make love shouldn’t involve me breaking my leg,” he whispered.

The words were out before he could stop them - _‘make love’_ \- and he knew he’d said too much. _Shit_. It was too fast. While today had only confirmed what he had always known about his feelings for Felicity Megan Smoak, he was positive that she wasn’t even close to being there. She’d thought he was joking last night when he finally fessed up about his feelings to her, assumed it would be a one time thing, and even after sleeping in the same bed together, she hadn’t believed him, not until she saw physical proof in the form of that gum wrapper he’d kept stashed in his wallet for so long.

It was too fast and he got his confirmation an instant later when Felicity froze. She didn’t stiffen, so much as she just… _stopped_.

 _Shit_.

“Make love?” she repeated.

He wanted her to laugh, to joke, to think he was being hokey or silly, to at the very least tease him, but he couldn’t, because he wasn’t joking. He meant exactly that.

“It’s just… I’m not saying…”

The words stumbled out of Oliver’s mouth and he silently cursed, grimacing. He was a giant fumbling goddamn idiot and he couldn’t think with her so close. The last thing he wanted was to make her think he was pushing, in any capacity. Oliver slid his hands up to her waist and urged her off him. She let him go with ease and he instantly missed her warmth, feeling the ghostly imprint of her body wound around his. He wondered if the way her brow furrowed was his imagination because it was gone a second later as she stared at him. And it was _at_ him, because she was two steps up from him and they were eye-to-eye.

Oliver swallowed, nerves nesting in his stomach. “Felicity, I don’t… it’s a term, I wasn’t…”

Hadn’t they just promised that they’d be honest with each other? Because it wasn’t just a term. It was more, so much more. But he didn’t want to freak her out. Thoughts raced through his head and he tried to capture at least one to help him find the right thing to say.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to…”

“Oliver.” Felicity’s fingers covered his lips. The words stalled on his tongue and he stopped breathing. He wondered how he could feel her fingers so readily when his lips were slowly numbing as he stared at her. He couldn’t read the look on her face and it was making his skin feel too tight when she finally smiled. “It’s okay.”

“But I want you to know-”

She put more pressure on his lips to still them. “I do. I do know. Now… stop thinking so much.”

Oliver blinked, trying to understand what she was saying, but all he could do was smile at the callback to the night before. As his lips moved under her fingers, her eyes dropped to his mouth, gentle wonder shifting to something darker. His heart climbed into his throat as she slid her hand up to cup his cheek, his whiskers scraping against her palm…

And then she was kissing him again

It was soft, so very soft, and he sighed, leaning into her. It didn’t escape his attention that she didn’t say anything about his choice of words, or his fumble, that she’d gone back to telling him to stop thinking so hard about everything. He would have laughed at the irony of who was the one thinking too hard between the two of them considering their history before this weekend, but then Felicity’s tongue swept over his lips and all that mattered was her.

As they kissed she held him with such care, such trust, such… He didn’t let himself think the word, he couldn’t. But something _was_ different. He didn’t know what or how he knew, but there was something different in the way she kissed him, in the way she held him, touched him. It was so tender, making his entire being ache, almost like…

Like maybe her feelings were deeper than he let himself hope.

_“It’s okay.”_

Did she…?

Hope slammed into him. His thoughts and feelings clashed together, sending a hot flush up his neck. He had to be imagining it, right? Because that would be… god, his entire life would be made. He had to check, he had to see. He had to know.

Oliver pushed his hands up to hold her face, whispering, “Felicity,” as he pulled back.

She heard his barely audible plea and she pulled back, looking up at him.

He brushed his fingers over her cheeks, pressing some of her hair off her face. His fingertips skated down along her jaw before moving back up, his thumb grazing the corner of her mouth… and he stared into her eyes.

She didn’t hold back a single thing.

It was real.

Oliver grinned, saying her name just as she gave him the most beatific smile, her eyes lighting up, her face _glowing_.

 _It was real_.

They were being honest, in their own way, letting each other in, and it was more than he could have dreamed.

His grin damn near split his face as he kissed her again. It was her turn to melt against him, her knees buckling slightly. Oliver wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close, melding his body to hers. She made a gentle breathless sound that struck him right in his heart. It was a heady combination with her lush curves pressing into him, the heat of her skin scorching through their clothes.

She arched her back, her abdomen pressing against his aching arousal.

Oliver slipped his hands up under her shirt. They both hissed, just before he pushed his fingers under the band of her pants. Felicity shuddered, goosebumps raising under his touch, giving him that moan again, that delicious _perfect_ moan. He pushed his hands in further with a ragged, “God, Felicity,” as he drowned in her.

“Yes,” she whispered, pulling his lips back to hers. “ _Yes_.”

Oliver slipped one hand back around to her ass - her skin was so hot it burned, but she gasped like the opposite was true - as the other slid to the front of her panties. He pushed his hand between them, groaning at the added pressure of his fingers against his hardness, but it quickly got swept away as he slid his fingers over the front of her panties. They were already damp, nearly soaked through when he ventured lower, closer to her entrance.

“Ooh,” Felicity whined, nodding rapidly where she clung to him. She arched her hips into his touch, her head falling back. Oliver held her up as he pressed his fingers against her sex. “Oliver… _Oliver_.”

He kissed a wet line up her throat, nipping at her, working his way up her jaw, around her chin. She moaned, rocking against his fingers, getting just enough friction to make her whine for him. Her fingers skated up the sides of his neck, her nails scraping over his ears before she shoved her hands into his hair, urging him closer.

Oliver pushed his fingers underneath her panties, touching her swollen, needy sex.

They both moaned. She was so wet, soaking his fingers as brushed over her clit in a way that had her bucking against him. And then he went lower, brushing over her puffy nether lips. She was so hot and wet and tender and he could feel his control spiraling away from him. Oliver moaned again, the sound getting lost in her drugged whispers. He gripped her ass tight, digging into the ample flesh, earning a wild, “Oh _god_ , yes… _yes_.”

He swirled his fingers at her entrance before slipping a finger inside her. Her inner walls immediately clamped down around him, giving him a guttural moan, her body tightening, her hands fisting in his hair hard enough to make him see stars. Oh _god_ , he needed more, he needed to feel more of her. Oliver pushed her back against the wall, frames rattling under her back, but they didn’t notice, too lost in each other. He added a second finger, cupping her sex like he had this morning, rubbing against her as he rubbed himself against the back of his hand. Pleasure swamped him, and he rubbed harder against her.

It was so, so much… but it also wasn’t enough.

“Felicity…”

“Yes,” she replied, searching for his lips.

“I need you,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers. His voice became desperate, even more than he already was. “I need to be inside you, Felicity.”

She cupped his face, pulling him back to look him in the eye. “Take me upstairs, Oliver.”

They were the most erotic words Oliver had ever heard.

Yanking his hand out of her pants, Oliver grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him. He moved fast, but she kept up the entire way, giggling when they dodged furniture and a bag of bottles he’d forgotten to take downstairs. His room was open, waiting for them with a welcoming glow of light, and the second they crossed the threshold he pulled her into his arms and kicked the door shut.

Felicity grabbed his shirt, pulling his lips down to hers just as he wrapped her up in his arms, damn near yanking her off her feet.

The hesitancy they’d experienced last night when the door closed behind them was nowhere to be found as she simultaneously pulled him back to the bed as much as he pushed her back.

When her legs touched the mattress, Oliver grasped her waist, lifting her up onto it. Felicity grabbed at his shirt, scrambling up underneath it, pushing it up. He pulled away long enough to rip it off over his head before he started unbuttoning her shirt as she grabbed his hips, pulling him between her legs. She touched as much of him as she could, reaching behind him to grab his ass before coming around to his front, her nails scraping the denim deliciously. His dick twitched, damn near reaching for her. Felicity cupped the heavy bulge waiting for her, her hand wrapping around him so _perfectly_ that he forgot how to breathe.

“Oh… _shit_ ,” Oliver hissed.

Sensation rocketed through him, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, his hands making tight fists in her shirt. He said something unintelligible, something that made her laugh, and something that made her squeeze him, rubbing her palm against him.

His hips jerked forward, seeking more friction, and she gave it to him.

It was fantastic, sensational, fucking amazing, and he quickly lost himself in her touch, every single nerve focused on her.

But then she moved, making him groan his displeasure, before he realized what she was doing.

“Off,” Felicity whispered, starting to unbutton his jeans.

Oliver nodded, gasping, “Off,” mostly because it was all he was capable of as he got back to her shirt with unsteady fingers.

Their moves were frantic, fueled by need and lust and so much more. His body hardened with each inch of flesh he revealed as he undid her shirt, and he felt her breaths growing shorter and more erratic as she undid his pants.

He finally reached where she’d knotted the shirt up at her midriff, and as his fingers started working it loose, he leaned over her, nudging her head back so he could capture her lips again. The kiss was messy, uncoordinated, both of them distracted, but that didn’t stop them from trying to do both, from touching each other as much as possible, from taking and giving everything they had.

Oliver finally got her knot undone and his moves started becoming even more frantic, so eager to touch, to feel. He moved to push the shirt off her shoulders, his fingers already itching to get under the thin straps of her bra, to push it off her shoulders, to tug the cups down so he could taste her nipples again… but then she finally got his pants undone and she yanked them open, her fingers digging into the band of his jeans and boxers, her fingers hot against his bare hips.

 _Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop, don’t stop…_

He was five seconds away from pushing her back so he could rip her pants off and buy himself as deeply as he could inside her…

But he didn’t want that. No, he really did want, he wanted that a fucking lot, but not this time, not right now.

“Wait,” Oliver gasped, pulling back, his hands covering hers.

She froze, looking up at him. _God_ , she was fucking stunning. Oliver leaned back in, needing to feel her swollen lips against his with an alarming fervor.

The kiss quickly spiraled out of control again and they were right back where they had been before - her hands pulling his pants down, his shoving her shirt off - before Oliver yanked himself away. _Again._

It was too fast. He wanted to savor this, _needed_ to revel in it, and as much as he wanted her - _god,_ he needed her, so bad it hurt - he also wanted to make this last.

He also had zero doubts where her hands were headed once she got his pants down and he knew he wouldn’t make it if he felt her fingers wrapped around his length. The imagery was almost too much and he held his breath, his cock twitching painfully against the painful bindings of his jeans. The zipper dug into him where Felicity had pulled it open and the pain did nothing to alleviate the ache.

When all he did was stand there, just staring at her, Felicity bit her lip, a flash of uncertainty touching her face. Fuck, he needed to stop thinking so damn much, but he was kind of glad he was, because he wanted to take his time and that was proving impossible when they gave into the intense craving they had for each other.

“Is this okay?” she asked.

_God yes, it’s so okay, it’s more than okay._

“Felicity,” he whispered, cupping her face, bringing her lips to his. He kissed her softly, gently, sighing against her lips when she instantly responded. “Yes,” he answered. “It's…”

_Perfect._

He didn’t realize he’d said that out loud until she smiled, a tender shy tug of her lips right against his.

“A little early to be calling it perfect, isn’t it?” she teased.

Oliver shook his head. “No,” he said, “because anything with you is perfect.” She fell silent, and the same hesitation from earlier hit him, but this time he forged on. He slipped his fingers over her cheeks, sliding them up over her temples and the soft hair there before he pushed wayward strands off her forehead. “You are always exactly where I want to be. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing or where we are, as long as I’m with you, it’s exactly what I want. Even when we were fighting and yelling at each other about that damn project, I didn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Felicity’s skin warmed under his touch. “So that’s why I could never get rid of you, huh?”

“Even when I was positive that you hated me,” Oliver said, “I always had a better day when I got to see you. It was even better when we talked, even if we were just fighting. I just… I would rather spend the entire day with you glaring daggers and cursing at me under your breath than be away from you.” His lips quirked. “I’d rather you yell at me instead of ignore me…” Felicity huffed out a chuckle, remembering the many times she’d done just that. “But even then, I’d take it just to be closer to you.”

“God,” she breathed, “you’re really good at that.”

Oliver furrowed his brow, his eyes drinking her in. “What?”

“Saying the exact thing that will make my heart feel like it’s going to…” Felicity waved her hands. “You know that feeling when it’s really full, and you can’t breathe, but it’s in a really good way, like… like it’s about to explode and all you can do is _feel_?”

“I know exactly how that feels.”

She stared at him, the lamplight catching the way her face softened with emotion. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, before his lips covered hers, needing to show her as much as tell her.

Felicity moaned, a tiny sound from deep in her chest, but instead of kissing him back, taking control as she had been doing, she gave him the reins, letting herself fall into his hands with perfect trust. He cradled her closer, his hands slipping into her hair, keeping the kiss soft, wanting to cherish this amazing moment. There was nothing like when they were on the same wavelength, when they both knew with one hundred percent certainty that this was real and it was happening. It made everything more vivid, touching him in the very depths of his heart.

Oliver held her closer, worshipping her with his kisses, his touch, his soft sighs. She returned every single one, her hands sliding around his waist, hugging him tight.

He wanted to make love to her.

Kissing her in a series of lingering touches, he kissed the corner of her mouth, her cheek, the tip of her nose, her brow. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, her lips parting when his hands slipped from her hair and down her neck, over her shoulders, his fingers pushing underneath her shirt.

He pulled back to watch his hands as he slipped it off her slowly. He watched the play of her muscles as she pulled her arms free, leaving the shirt to pool around her hips.

Oliver dragged his fingers up her bare arms and when she shivered, her head falling back at the sensation, his eyes flew back to her face.

Would he ever not feel that stab in his chest at just how beautiful she was? He hoped not.

Her bra was next. Oliver slid the straps off her shoulders, her breasts falling in the thin cups. Her hard nipples caught on the material and his mouth watered, knowing they were dusky little peaks, remembering how they felt against his tongue. Her soft skin glowed in the lamplight, a stark contrast to the dark bra, and his body responded. He wanted to spend the next several hours on her breasts alone. But that would come later. Because they had a later. They had time.

Felicity licked her lips and reached behind her, unhooking the bra, her wet mouth catching the lamplight.

Oliver pulled it off, revealing her gorgeous breasts. Dropping her bra on the ground, he cupped them, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, his lids growing heavy. She let out a shuddery sigh and when he looked up at her, his stomach dipped at the pools of passion in her eyes. They only deepened as he circled his thumbs around the hardening buds, her breath hitching as she pressed her chest closer to his touch. He palmed her breasts, and she moaned.

Her reaction tore at him, need whipping through him with so much intensity his lungs seized.

Oliver surged forward, his lips finding hers in a searing kiss. His thumbs grazed the underside of her breasts as she fell back under his assault. He delighted in the shiver she gave him when his fingers brushed down her back. He wanted to push her back and climb on top, press the length of his body against hers, but he stopped himself.

He wanted to feel _all_ of her, completely, totally.

With a moaned, “Felicity,” he kissed her chin instead, and then down, down…

She fell back on the bed, spreading her legs for him, her hands gripping his shoulders to pull him with her, but he had other plans. Felicity whimpered, whispering, “Oliver, _please_ ,” as she pushed her hands into his hair, gripping it tight, but he just nipped at her collarbone instead.

He worked his way down her body, pausing at her breasts. He sucked a nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue around it, making her cry out his name. His cock jumped at the sound. Oliver moved to the other one, but he avoided her nipple this time, much to her chagrin. He smiled at the noises she made as he kissed the delicate skin of her breast, his tongue laving her. She tasted different from this morning - then she’d been clean from her shower, but now there was a fine layer of saltiness that he wanted more of. Oliver sucked and pulled, hard enough to leave a bruise.

A wave of possession hit him and he found himself sucking even harder, wanting to leave his mark on her, before he forced himself to back off. It felt archaic, thinking of it that way, thinking of _her_ that way…

Felicity instantly disagreed, shaking her head, wrapping her legs around his waist as she gasped, “Oliver, please… _please_ …” urging him to where she needed him. The desperate plea was all it took for him to wrap his lips around her nipple and suck on it. Her next cry was louder, but that wasn’t nearly enough. Oliver greedily pushed the hard bud against the roof of his mouth where he rubbed it back and forth, eliciting a ragged, “ _Aah_ ,” from her as her fingers spasmed against his scalp, her feet anchoring on his back to thrust her hips up against his chest.

He could feel her arousal for him through her pants.

Oliver growled, the vibrations around her sensitive flesh making her moan as he flattened his body against her, giving her more friction where she needed it.

It also had him rubbing the painfully hard bulge in his pants right against the side of the bed.

His hips jerked and he released her nipple with a hissed, “Fuck,” as pleasure had bursts of stars exploding against his closed lids.

He couldn’t wait. He needed her. _Now_.

Oliver stood up, his fingers slipping into the band of her pants and panties. He pulled them down and Felicity lifted her hips to help. The leggings stuck to her legs like glue, and he peeled them, unable to hold back his huff of annoyance when they didn’t just evaporate. Felicity laughed, a deep throaty sound, and that did nothing to ratchet down his need as she pulled her legs back for him until she was completely naked.

She laid before him, completely open to his gaze, and he paused, taking her in.

“You are so beautiful,” he said.

Felicity smiled, blushing, and he watched in fascination as it started on her chest, spreading up neck but also down, coloring her breasts. She bit her lip, her legs scissoring together. He wanted to smooth his hands over them, urge her to open them again, to never hide from him.

He hoped she could see it in his eyes, and he thought she did when she smiled at him, her body relaxing again before she sat up. Felicity hooked her fingers into his exposed boxers with a low, “C’mere.”

Oliver’s stomach fluttered. His hands found her shoulders as Felicity pulled his jeans down his hips, leaving them to slide down his legs before she tugged his boxers down next. He felt her breathing change as she moved, pulling the material down just enough for the very hard evidence of his arousal to pop free from its bindings. He was so damned sensitive the cool air was enough to make him hiss, but that was nothing compared to when Felicity’s hand wrapped around him.

“Oh _god_ ,” he gasped, his hips jerking into her touch.

His length slid against her palm. She moved her hand around him, twisting her wrist up to the tip where she brushed her thumb over the head.

Oliver choked out a breath, gripping her shoulders tight, falling forward until his forehead hit the crown of her head. His breath was hot against her hair as she wrapped both hands around him, smoothing them down, and he swore he got harder, swore he felt himself swell even more, which felt like a fucking feat all things considered. But it was Felicity holding him like this, _her_ hands around him, _her_ touch sending pleasure flooding his veins. The thought of it crashed with reality and his cock jumped in her hands. Felicity slid one hand down to cup his balls, her other twisting back to cup the very tip again… and then she leaned forward, like she wanted to take him into her mouth. _Oh god._ Every single inch of him yearned towards her, wanting to feel her lips wrap around him, her tongue taste the cum he knew was beading at the tip, to feel her swirl it around as she sucked him into her warm mouth…

He was suddenly vividly aware of the fact that he hadn’t gotten off since last night in the shower and while that had been spectacular, thinking about the soft curve of Felicity’s back, it was _nothing_ compared to right now.

Oliver stepped back, forcing Felicity to let him go. He shook his head as he cupped her head, bringing her face back up to his as he whispered, “I won’t last if you do that,” just before he kissed her. He was painfully aware that she was sitting before him, completely naked, her legs spread, her wet heat right there, waiting for him, and he whimpered, kissing her harder before he ripped himself away. “Condom,” he said against her lips.

“Condom,” Felicity agreed, nodding, kissing him one more time before letting him go.

Oliver stepped out of his jeans and shoved his boxers down before stumbling over to the nightstand. The drawer was filled with condoms - _thank god_ \- and he grabbed one, instantly tearing it open. He rolled it on and turned around to find Felicity already lying diagonally across the bed, her legs parted just enough to see her glistening sex.

Dear fucking god, she was so gorgeous, so perfect, so amazing…

His jaw dropped, his needy ache for her making his cock _hurt_.

With half-lidded, lust-filled eyes, she raised her hand, beckoning him to her.

He crawled onto the bed and over her, letting out a shaky breath when she opened herself to him. Felicity welcomed him with open arms, the quiet smile on her lips making his heart skip a beat. Oliver settled over her, angling himself so his hardness wasn’t pressed right against her heat just yet. That didn’t stop pleasure from suffusing his entire being when he pressed himself right into the crook her inner thigh made. It was only amplified when she wrapped herself around him, her hands skating down his back, her lips finding his cheek, his temple, his ear.

He sunk against her like she was _made_ for him, like he was home.

Oliver shivered under the weight of that thought.

He wasn’t the only one.

Felicity’s fingers trembled where she held his face.

Like a switch went off, every ounce of his focus shifted from their precarious position and right back to her.

Oliver propped himself up on his elbows so he could see her. He cradled her head between his palms, pushing his fingers through her hair and against her scalp as he whispered, “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Felicity nodded, a brief smile pulling at her lips. “Yeah, I’m okay.” Her eyes switched to watch her hands as she played with the edges of his hair, a tiny anxious line forming between her brows. “I’m just…”

It would only be later that Oliver would look back and realize this was the first time he didn’t freak out about her half-sentences, or fill in the empty spaces with his own fears. That was gone, because now he knew that was with him just as much as he was with her.

“What?” Oliver urged. Another thing he’d recognize later was how easy it was to shut off his body when it came to making sure she was okay. “Hey.” Her eyes found his again. “Talk to me, Felicity.”

For a split second the anxious line smoothed away, like the sound of her name on his lips was enough to do that, but then it was back.

“I'm… I’m nervous, I guess,” Felicity admitted in a hushed voice. She huffed out a little laugh as she closed her eyes and Oliver wanted nothing more than to soothe her worries away with the brush of his hand. But he knew that was impossible so instead he rubbed his thumbs against her temples, waiting for her to continue. He could see the words forming on her face before her eyes fluttered open again. “I’m always a little nervous for the first time…”

He smiled softly. “Me too.”

“But this feels… different.” Felicity met his gaze, smiling before biting her lip. “It’s special.” The words were barely audible, but even if he hadn’t heard them - and he was so grateful he did, because they sent his heart soaring - he would have seen it on her face. She stared at him, searching his eyes. “This is special. This, and… us.”

The vulnerability and wonder shining at him through her eyes hit him hard.

“Yeah,” Oliver whispered. “It is.”

Felicity’s eyes danced over his face, and he hoped she saw everything he felt for her, everything he wanted to say. It wasn’t confirmation that they were both in this, because they’d already done that. This was more.

She gave him a watery grin and a wispy, “Oliver,” before she pulled his lips down to hers.

 _Happiness_.

It was in her voice, and it was what he tasted as she kissed him.

They kissed for the longest time and then moved as one, Felicity wrapping herself around him as Oliver stretched the length of his body over his. His hardness rubbed against her and he whimpered, his hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation, inadvertently rubbing himself right against her heat.

Felicity nodded, whispering, “Please,” between kisses. “Oliver…” Her voice dropped as she said, “Make love to me.”

Oliver’s heart somehow stopped and started at the same time. He cupped her head, pulling back to look at her, needing to make sure he heard her correctly. He did. She stared up at him, and the intensity in her gaze set him on fire. Emotion seared through him, flooding him, and it was his turn to nod. Never breaking eye contact, he kissed her softly and then he slipped a hand between them.

Her breath hitched when his fingers grazed her wetness. He slipped his finger over her entrance. Her inner walls spasmed, aching to be filled.

“Yes,” Felicity said, kissing him, sliding her hand down his arm to grip his forearm tightly. “ _Oliver._ ”

He shifted his hips back, both of them sighing at the sensation of his length brushing over the damp skin of her thigh, before he gripped his length.

Oliver slid himself through her wetness, up and over her clit, spreading her juices, before he found her entrance.

He slowly pressed himself inside her, just the head.

“Oh… _god_ …”

It was perfect.

_She_ was perfect.

Felicity’s mouth fell open in a breathless moan as he shuddered, his forehead falling against hers. Her warmth encased him, dominating every sense until all he could feel was her embrace. She rocked her hips up, and he slid in further, so easily. Her body was ready for him, and the second she gave him another eager thrust, urging him deeper. God, he wanted to take his time, to feel her, to make sure she was ready so this was perfect for her…

But her slight movements pushed him over the edge and he gave in.

Oliver thrust into her, in to the hilt, filling her completely.

Felicity stiffened with a gasp, not as ready as he thought. Her breaths came in uneven pants that he matched as he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to pause, letting her adjust to him… fighting the nearly undeniable desire to start hammering into her. She just felt so damn _good_ around him, so warm, so wet, so smooth.

He cursed, fighting for equilibrium, grabbing her hip to hold onto something.

“Oliver,” she moaned, grabbing his face, anchoring him to her with a kiss. He groaned against her lips, kissing her back, rocking closer to her. The move pushed him even deeper, his pubic bone pressing to her clit. Felicity broke away with a breathy cry followed by a, “ _Yes_ …”

He rocked against her again, and she matched him perfectly, her hips thrusting up in return.

Concentrating on her, he focused on her responses, on the delightful noises she made as he moved inside her with shallow thrusts. Her walls clenched around him, but his pleasure faded into the background as he fixated on her, pressing wet kisses to her face, peppering them everywhere as he started deepening his thrusts.

She choked out his name, her hands finding his hair again, fisting it. Felicity buried her face in his neck, panting his name, her sounds morphing into cries as he pushed himself even deeper, angling his hips to brush over her clit.

“Ooh…!” Felicity cried, pressing her mouth to his shoulder, muffling the rest of her sounds as he did it again, and again.

Her hot breath was a stark contrast to the cool air in the room and goosebumps sent a shiver down his spine. His own pleasure spiked, a white wave of it crashing through him.

“Aah, _Felicity_!” Oliver gasped, falling against her.

He thrust harder, losing himself in her wet heat, in the feel of her mouth on his skin, her moans of his name, her hands on him.

It wasn’t enough, he needed more. He wanted more, he wanted to surround himself in her, bury himself as deep as he could, lose himself in her…

Oliver shoved his arms underneath her, wrapping her up in his arms, cradling her against him so intimately his chest burned. She immediately reciprocated, pulling her legs up \- he slid into her so fully that he whimpered, a cascade of words he couldn’t comprehend falling from his lips. She locked her ankles against his back, winding her arms around his neck. He pulled a leg up, pinning her to the bed as he buried his face in her throat, planting messy kisses to the long, delicate column.

But it wasn’t _enough_.

He wanted to connect with her, completely, totally.

Oliver kissed his way up her throat, her jaw, his lips brushing over her cheek, his stubble catching her lips before he kissed her. And then he looked at her. She was already watching him and the instant their eyes met, the intensity of their position ratcheted up to near-blinding levels.

A million and one words flew between them, and he wanted to say all of them, right now, but he didn’t have to.

Keeping one arm wrapped underneath her back, Oliver slid the other up until he was cupping the back of her neck, his fingers sinking into her hair.

Their gaze never once faltered as he pulled his hips back and thrust into her, again… and again.

Felicity’s mouth trembled, parting on a moan, her skin flushing to match the pink of her lips, and he knew she felt it too, their connection. The power of it made the room spin, but it wasn’t distracting or debilitating, because he was in her arms, and he knew he was safe there.

Oliver watched her, reading her reactions, changing the angle of his thrusts until he found the perfect spot.

When he finally did, he watched in fascination as her entire countenance shifted, a new pleasure flooding her features, her mouth falling open in a desperate cry. Her eyes slipped shut for a second, but she forced them open, finding his again, unwilling to lose the contact as much as he was.

It only amplified everything, making each thrust resonate more with a sharpness he felt in the soles of his feet. He grazed her clit with each thrust, right where she needed it, watching her start to crumble in his arms. It was _beautiful_ , so fucking beautiful, something he could watch forever, and he _did_. He kept his eyes on her, responding to her whimpers of, “Right there, yes… _yes_ , don’t stop… Oliver, Oliver… _Oliver_ ,” following her cues as best he could, wanting to see her come.

Sweat beaded along his spine as the familiar burn of his own pleasure started to build.

He gripped her tighter, fighting it, wanting her to come first.

But then she started thrusting back against him, her walls clutching him tight, and he shuddered.

“Oh… _god_ ,” Oliver whispered, his hips moving faster. Her cries became sharper, louder, her nails digging into his back. She nodded, holding her breath as they both moved. Pleasure and passion glazed her eyes, the flush in her cheeks suddenly shifting as she furrowed her brow in concentration. “Felicity,” Oliver moaned, his lids growing heavy as heat curled at the base of his spine. “Please… Felicity… _Felicity_ …”

A breathless cry was his response.

Felicity cupped his face, pulling his lips to hers before sliding one hand down to his ass. He cursed when she dug her nails into him, and he thrust harder, sinking into her warmth with more urgency. She met every single thrust with uneven jerks of her hips, breaking away when the need for oxygen became too much.

His need and desire for her took over, his thrusts growing wilder with each passing second, her name falling from his lips in a litany.

She gasped his, her voice becoming strangled as he hit her clit over and over.

“Oh, oh… oh god, Oliver, don’t stop, don’t… _oh_ …!”

He felt her stiffen underneath him, every inch of her clinging to him as he thrust into her, his voice cracking as he whispered for her _to come, to please come, come for him…_

And with a soundless scream, Felicity did. She flew apart at the seams with a series of ragged shouts, her silken walls pulsing around him with so much force he cried out.

It was gorgeous, absolute heaven to his ears hearing her falling to pieces in his arms… and it was the final straw.

Oliver gripped her tight, burying himself in her. He dug his face in her throat, grunting as his hips moved faster, pounding into her, seeking his own release. It was close, so close, and he heard her whispering his name in blissful whines, her face pressing to the side of his head, her lips finding his ear.

The pressure built, coiling tighter, tighter…

“Felicity, Felicity… _Felicity_!”

White sheeted over his eyes.

Oliver came hard, his orgasm ripping through him, heat razing his nerves. He didn’t hear the desperate cries he let out as his hips thrust wildly into her, riding the pleasure she gave him, spilling into the condom. Her inner walls spasmed around him, milking him for more, and he kept moving, over and over, losing himself in her until he was completely spent.

His gasps of her name filled the room, his mind filled with only her as he buried himself in her as deep as he possibly could before he finally fell still.

Pleasure radiated through him.

Satisfaction suffused every inch.

They didn’t move for a long time, save for Oliver shifting his weight to his elbows so he wasn’t crushing her. Even then she wrapped herself around him, unwilling to let him go. It filled him with so much joy he could barely breathe. He didn’t want to move. He never wanted to move, not ever again.

So much had changed in the space of twenty-four hours.

The rest of his life.

He wanted to talk about it, he wanted to tell her how much wonder it filled him with, how grateful he was she gave him another chance, that she trusted him with not only with that, but _her_ , her heart and body and soul… And he would, but later. Because right now he just wanted to hold her, and fall asleep with her in his arms.

Felicity pressed soft lingering kisses to his face. His heart soared as he leaned into her lips, nuzzling her until his mouth found hers.

They didn’t speak, because they didn’t have to.

Oliver pulled out of her, whispering, “I’ll be right back,” before climbing off the bed.

His legs were shaky as he made his way to the bathroom, peeling the used condom off. He was _spent_ , and he was only in there long enough to toss it away and wipe himself clean with a washcloth from the closet. He thought about bringing one back for Felicity, but the shuffle of feet behind him answered that.

The bathroom light was off, leaving her silhouetted in the lamplight from his room. She’d grabbed his shirt again and it was draped over her, only her fingers keeping it together between her breasts. Her hair was a wild halo around her head, from his hands and from making love. There was enough light for him to see she was biting her lip as she leaned against the doorjamb, her eyes taking their fill of him.

“Hi,” Oliver whispered, a little shyly.

Felicity smiled, ducking her head with a small grin. “Hi.” She waved at the bathroom. “I was just gonna clean up a little bit.”

“Right.”

Oliver tossed the cloth away and closed the few feet separating them, painfully aware of his nakedness, but not in a bad way. He was just _aware_ of it, of how intimate it was to be with her like this, especially the closer he got. He thought about stepping aside, letting her in and then going back to bed. But then he thought about kissing her, about pushing his hands underneath her shirt before he was back to thinking he should let her be. He had no idea where the sudden rash of indecision was coming from, but it all evaporated when she reached for him.

Felicity let the ends of the shirt go, and he caught a glimpse of the edges of her naked breasts and her wet sex before she pushed up onto her toes to kiss him.

It was soft, sweet, and so gentle, a loving follow-up to what they’d just shared.

He wrapped his arms around her, sighing when her naked body pressed against his, their mouths opening just enough to taste each other.

With a hum, Felicity pulled back with a smile.

Oliver kissed her once more before he let her go. He made his way back to the bed as she closed the door, going about her business. He didn’t bother with his boxers as he pulled the comforter back and climbed in - on his side - and with a sigh, let himself sink in.

He doubled up his pillow, trying not to listen to every single move she made in the bathroom. But he also couldn’t help himself. Some part of him had once wondered, at the very beginning, if he ever slept with Felicity if that’d get her out of his system. He snorted. It was the exact fucking opposite. He was positively starved for her, from everything to her touch and kisses to wondering what her bathroom routine was. He wanted to discover everything he could about Felicity Smoak, absolutely everything.

The door opened, pulling Oliver from his thoughts.

He watched her walk back to the bed. She was still in his shirt, and it was still unbuttoned, letting him catch glimpses of her. She paused to ask, “Should I turn the light off?”

“No,” Oliver whispered. “Leave it on.”

He wanted to see her, for as long as he could. He gestured her back to the bed, flipping open the comforter for her.

A small smile lit her face at the gesture and she walked around to her side, slipping his shirt off, leaving it to land in a messy pile on the floor. He watched her every move as she climbed into bed with him, joining him under the comforter, mesmerized by everything - absolutely fucking everything, it was amazing - as he drank her in.

The second she was within reach he pulled her close, tucking the comforter in around her. She giggled when his movements tickled her, but all he did was smile because it meant she just scooted closer to him. She pressed her back to his chest, her backside settling against him just right, and Oliver curled around her, digging his face into her throat, making her giggle again as she wound her arms around his.

Silence settled over them.

As sleep started making Oliver’s limbs heavy, his eyes slipping shut, he felt like he was floating. In happiness. In awe, amazement, wonder…

He cuddled her closer, settling in with a sigh.

“Oliver?”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice thick with impending rest, his arms tightening around her.

“Thank you.”

That woke him up.

Oliver furrowed his brow, his mind racing through his sluggish thoughts to understand why in the world _she_ would be thanking _him_.

“For what?” he whispered.

She shifted, turning just enough so she could look back at him. Felicity stared at him, and the earnestness in her eyes made his heart feel about twenty times bigger.

“For not being that guy,” she replied. Felicity reached back to drag her fingertips down the side of his face. “For being the guy I thought you were when we first met.”

Oliver could only stare at her. He tried to form the words, any words, but nothing came up, because that… that was _huge_.

He started speaking, just needing her to know how much that meant to him, saying the first thing that came to mind.

“You make me want to be a better person,” he said. He heard the words as they were coming out, and he huffed out a small chuckle at him, shaking his head. “That’s something everyone says, isn’t it, but… but I… I want to deserve you, Felicity.”

A thin sheen of tears filled her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. He scooted closer, wanting to soak up any reason she might have to cry ever, but then she smiled. “You do, Oliver,” she replied. “You do.” He believed her. God, he believed her and he vowed that he would be. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was tired or because he’d finally made love to her, but there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation anymore. “You’re doing it again,” Felicity whispered.

“Doing what?”

“Saying the right words to make my heart do the thing.” She tapped her finger to his nose, bopping him, trying to lighten the mood as she added, “You gotta take care of this thing, mister.”

Oliver wasn’t sure if those exact words were her intention, but he didn’t care, taking them at face value either way.

“I will,” he replied. “Always.”

“There you go,” she said, her voice betraying how hard his words hit her, “doing it again, making me…”

Oliver swooped in before she could finish, his lips covering hers, sealing the unspoken promise. The way they laid kept them from deepening, but it was more than enough.

He finally pulled back, but not without a couple more lingering kisses.

Neither of them spoke, staring into each other’s eyes before they curled around each other again.

Oliver scooted down until his knees fit perfectly behind hers, his arms wrapped around her. She cradled them to her chest, lacing their fingers together, dropping a kiss to his wrist. He pressed his lips to her shoulder blade.

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

Oliver smiled, kissing her shoulder again. “Goodnight.”

He fell asleep first, to the sensation of her thumb rubbing against the back of his knuckles, her lips brushing his wrist, her light breaths lulling him to sleep…

It didn’t last long.

Oliver woke a few hours later, and used his kisses and the strokes of his hand down the side of her body to rouse her. With a sleepy moan, Felicity responded, turning in his arms, her lips finding his. It wasn’t long before she was pushing him on his back and climbing on top, straddling him. She remembered the condom this time, reaching into the nightstand to find one, ripping it open and putting it on before she gripped him, guiding him to her entrance. Lingering exhaustion quickly dragged them down, making their movements rushed and uneven, but they quickly found their rhythm, their bodies taking over as she rode him. Felicity fell against his chest and they wrapped themselves around each other. Oliver lifted his knees, using the leverage to thrust up into her as she ground down on him, his face buried in her hair, hers against his neck. Her cries were louder than before, losing herself in her pleasure, and they echoed through the room as she fell to pieces, urging him to follow barely a second later.

They fell asleep again.

Several alarms on her phone going off in rapid succession roused them an hour after that.

After a lot of grumbling and cursing, Felicity got up, whispering, “I have to leave soon if I’m gonna make it back in time for class.”

Oliver gave her a bleary nod and a sloppy kiss, not letting go of her hand until he absolutely had to.

He managed to open his eyes, watching her walk away.

One look at her swaying ass and he was up, following her into the shower. It lasted way longer than it should have, but when Oliver tried to get her back on track after teasing her - which wasn’t easy, especially when he saw the very large hickey he’d left on her breast - but it was Felicity who said she didn’t care, dropping to her knees, taking him into her mouth. Oliver came with a sharp shout, his head hitting the tiled wall with a loud thud, his fingers tangling in her wet hair as she took every last drop. He returned the favor, throwing one of her legs over his shoulder, pushing her up against the same wall, devouring her until she nearly pulled all _his_ hair out as she came.

Her taste and the sounds she made as he pleasured her made him hard again, but he managed to keep his hands to himself as they both cleaned up. But then she walked back into his room and he caught her dropping the towel from around her body, using it to dry her hair. The motion made her entire body wiggle in delicious ways and before he could think twice he was grabbing her, hauling her back onto the bed where he made love to her one more time.

By the time they’d gotten dressed - she was wearing his shirt again, saying she needed to stop at her apartment and change anyway - and brushed their teeth - including her teasing him about where he’d put her toothbrush next to his the night before - the sun was rising, coloring the sky with a myriad of dusky pinks and burnt oranges.

She had a momentary panic attack when she forgot where her glasses were, but it quickly abated when they found them downstairs where she’d left them last night, sitting haphazardly on the table next to the couch.

Oliver left with her, even though his first class wasn’t until eleven that morning. He locked the house up, making a mental note to come back out this weekend and clean up some more before the monthly cleaning, and then he laced his fingers with hers, walking her out to where her Mini was parked next to his. He tugged her into his side as they walked, kissing her temple. She leaned into him, her damp hair tickling his nose, her hand finding his heart.

He waited to make sure her car started, and when it did, he laughed at the delighted squeak she let out, her fist flying into the air with a mini-victory dance.

She was the cutest fucking thing in the entire world.

And she was _his_ , just as much as he was hers.

Oliver was so fucking happy he could dance himself.

“Hey,” he said, pulling her up out of the car for a moment. Felicity stepped out, instantly stepping into his arms. He smiled, leaning down to capture her lips for a second. Just because he wanted to. Because he could. Oliver leaned his forehead against hers, swaying, like he really was dancing. She gladly went along. “What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

“I have a two-hour lecture that doesn’t start until five,” she replied. “So I’ll be probably sitting in my car after that, staring straight ahead, trying to remember how to use my brain because my professor’s voice is very drone-like.”

Oliver chuckled, smoothing his hands up her sides and over her back before going down again, finding her hips. “Would you like to have dinner with me when you’re done?”

“Dinner? Like a date? A date-date?”

“Well…” Oliver’s brain faltered, because… Well, he thought it was sort of assumed that that was what it would be and for a split second, he forgot how to speak as he said, “Sure, yeah, I mean… the implication being with dinner that you… that we…” He huffed in exasperation and she grinned, her lips already forming the words, _‘Sentence fragments,’_ with far too much amusement. He nodded with his own smile, saying it for her. “Sentence fragments, I know. It’s your damn fault, you know. You make me flustered.”

“I like that I make you flustered,” she whispered.

“You do a very good job of it,” he said. She giggled and he took a deep breath, the words ready this time. “Would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?”

“Yes,” Felicity replied immediately, nodding with a happy grin. “I would love to.” She cupped his face. “I wanna be yours, remember?”

“Yes,” Oliver breathed. The words were as close to what he felt as anything, and they settled inside him, filling him with warmth. He pressed his forehead to hers. “And I wanna be yours.”

They sealed it with a kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!!
> 
> Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.
> 
> Next up is the Epilogue! I've been planning this ending since I decided to continue this 'verse almost two years ago, I'm excited to share it with you guys. 
> 
> Final update will be on Saturday!


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 27 years later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with me on this journey! I don’t have words for how much the response to this fic has meant to me, thank you! I hope you enjoy the small glimpse of Oliver and Felicity’s future.
> 
> This wouldn’t be anything without my amazing beta Margaret. She does so much for me and I’m so grateful!

“Alright,” Oliver said, his voice tight with effort. 

She didn’t have to see him to know what he was doing. She could _hear_ it. 

Felicity looked up as he rounded the corner, carrying a stack of four boxes. Her jaw dropped, but he was too focused on the load in his arms to notice as he hauled them to the dining room table where she stood. 

He dropped them with a huff. “That’s the last of them.”

“Oliver,” Felicity said. He looked up with a furrowed brow, reading her tone perfectly. No, not perfectly, because he also looked _confused_ and why was her husband like this? Felicity dropped her hands on the box she was unpacking with a hard thud. “You’re doing the one thing you’re not supposed to be doing.”

He narrowed his eyes, glancing at the boxes on the table. “I’m not supposed to be helping you unpack these pictures?”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “No,” she said, waving at him. “ _Lifting things_. You literally had surgery just a few months ago.”

“Ah,” he said. His shoulders fell with a laugh and a patient, “That was eight months ago, Felicity.”

“Yeah,” she replied, pointing at him. “A few months ago.” She went back to unpacking the frames from the box before her, setting them in delicate piles on the table. “Just because they put a new tendon in your shoulder doesn’t make you invincible.”

Felicity expected him to become quiet, like he had been since her hovering hadn’t abated in the least after he’d gotten cleared by his doctor to return to normal activity. He’d powered through his physical therapy, which was great, but he was acting like his entire shoulder hadn’t completely separated from his body last year. She was pretty sure he shouldn’t be carrying a bunch of stuff, especially _that_ much stuff.

But he was clearly not on the same page.

“You know,” he said, inching his way towards her, a slow grin covering his face, “I wasn’t hearing any complaints last night.”

Despite herself, Felicity blushed. It was always despite herself, which was ridiculous. How could he still make her blush just talking about what they’d done last night? Counter sex. She loved counter sex. She’d been the one to tackle him - he’d just gotten back from his run and he was shirtless, his muscles shiny with sweat, his chest moving with quick, short pants, his skin flushed… 

Long story short she shouldn’t be blushing, but she was. Probably because he was making his way around the table like he was, practically _stalking_ her. She shivered, and he caught it. _Damn him_. She ignored his advancement - no way she 

was going to give him the satisfaction of more - and continued to empty the box. 

“Felicity,” he said, dragging her name out…

_Fe-li-ci-ty_.

She shook her head. “Nope.”

“What about in the shower?” he continued, sidling up next to her. A smile threatened to pull at her lips, but she ignored it. And him. That suddenly became a much harder task when he dragged his finger up her bare arm. “What about on the dresser?”

“You didn’t lift me onto the dresser,” Felicity refuted. “I lifted me. That doesn’t count.”

Oliver wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his front to her side, his nose and lips grazing her cheek. He hummed his consideration of her statement, letting out a breathy sigh. It skated over her ear, making her momentarily forget what she was doing.

“Except,” he said, “you came so hard that you nearly fell off it.”

“That…” Felicity started, ready to argue, but the words died, because that did happen. 

Heat tugged at her core as she remembered just how well he’d done that very thing. He’d pushed her to the edge, the very edge, playing her body so beautifully, brushing against her clit with such intention, such slow, slow, slow intention… before he thrust into her, his hand on her breast pinching her nipple, his mouth sucking her earlobe between his teeth, _biting it_. Oh, she’d seen _stars_. He was _too_ good at it. Well, that was a stupid thought, because there was no such thing. And it was still his fault. She gave him a look. 

“You know,” she said, tapping his forearm, clearing her throat to steady her voice. “I didn’t make myself come like that.”

Oliver nipped her earlobe. “I did tell you to hold on when I pulled out.”

_Frak_. 

He’d whispered in her ear that he wanted her on the bed, that he wanted to make her come again as he fucked her from behind. He’d said it right in the middle of her orgasm, and she remembered whining his name - because _how_ \- and sort of nodding, but then he’d been moving, and she’d…

She’d fallen, because her arms had been the consistency of Jell-O.

“Okay, you know what?” Felicity said. “That one’s a draw.”

Her husband laughed, hugging her tight. She smiled, her eyes slipping shut like they always did in his embrace. There was always warmth and love there, no matter what. Oliver pressed his lips to her temple and she leaned into him with a happy sigh.

“My shoulder’s fine,” he whispered. Felicity snorted and he pulled back, angling his head to catch her eye, a cocky smile on his lips. “Do I need to prove it?”

One hand squeezed her waist, the other dropping to her ass, and she felt the beginnings of a bulge in his pants.

Felicity’s first reaction was to say, _‘Yes,’_ because she was always ready for him, but they couldn’t, so she was about to say, _‘No,’_ and the reason for it, but…

“Okay,” she whispered, turning to face him. Desire flared in his eyes, his pupils widening, dropping down to look at her lips when she licked them. Her voice was low and husky, her fingers dancing up his chest and to his broad shoulders. “On the table?”

He nodded, giving her a breathy, “Yes.” He squeezed her ass, his eyes darkening when she gasped. “Right now.”

“Where the kids will walk in and be traumatized forever?”

It didn’t faze him a single bit. “They’ve seen worse,” he told her, leaning in to capture her lips. 

Felicity laughed, remembering the few times they had seen worse. Her poor children. They tried being careful, but sometimes… well, sometimes they got carried away and that usually led to them losing track of time, which always resulted in shouts of horror and disgust. They never _saw_ anything… at least she hoped they didn’t. 

“And what about Rali?” Felicity asked.

That caught his attention.

Oliver pulled back, his eyes lighting up. “Sadie’s bringing Rali?”

“Yeah,” Felicity said with a warm smile. Oliver always lamented about how much he was tied around his wife and daughter’s fingers, but they had _nothing_ on his grandson. They were two peas in a pod and inseparable when the four year old came around. “It was just going to be her, but Nimesh got the night off. So, you can watch Rali while they…”

He straightened. “You’re going to make him and Tommy move all the furniture, aren’t you?”

“Yep!” she replied, her smile glowing with triumph.

“Felicity,” Oliver said, taking a breath, like he was seeking patience. Which he was. “I don’t need my son and son-in-law lifting things for me.”

“They’re not,” she replied. “They’re moving while you babysit. And they’re saving us money.”

“Because we’re so lacking in that department.”

“Because a lot of those places charged per mile and this house is ridiculously far away from Starling City, so…” Felicity’s smile brightened even more. “Saving money!”

Oliver just sighed, pulling her close to kiss her temple again. “Alright,” he said. “But I’m only agreeing because I damn well do plan on having you on this table when the kids leave.”

“I will meet you here.” 

Oliver growled in response, tugging her closer. Felicity just giggled, pulling open the flaps of a new box. He caught the same glance of purple that she did and glanced down. She picked up the new frame for him, knowing he instantly recognized it even as he said, “Oh my god.”

She smiled. “I know.”

“I didn’t know you still had that,” he breathed, taking the frame from her. He turned it around, like he could see the back of the photograph through the layers of cardboard holding it pressed to the glass. “I haven’t seen this in years.”

“I found it the other day,” Felicity explained, taking the picture back. “And of course I kept it. You kept a gum wrapper, I definitely kept the thing you proposed with.” 

Oliver chuckled, watching her as she pulled the frame apart, slipping the picture out. 

It was old, old enough that it was yellowing at the corners and along the edges. She had thought she’d lost it, or at the very least misplaced it somewhere it would never be unearthed, but as she’d packed up her books, it’d slipped out of one of them. She’d just about cried, after she let out a happy squeal, grabbing it, turning it over… 

Felicity flipped it over, showing the question that _had_ made her cry when she first realized what she was reading. 

The words, _‘Marry me’_ were still scribbled on the back in Oliver’s distinct handwriting. 

Oliver smiled, slipping around to hold her from behind. He hugged her tight, his chin finding her shoulder as Felicity turned it back over, to the purple-tinged photo.

She remembered the day the picture had been taken like it was yesterday. Felicity wasn’t one to say things were meant to be or that anything was ordained to happen, because that was nonsense, despite her mother’s tendency towards cheap horoscope gum, but she also couldn’t help but wonder about the timing of finding the picture. What were the chances she found it a few days before they were migrating half their loft in the city to the very house where it had all started?

_Meant to be_.

The words rang in her ears, and she still scoffed. A little.

Because then again, what were the chances that she happened to take the one road that would lead her to her future after her car broke down in a thunderstorm?

Twenty seven years ago, Felicity had stumbled into a drunken party of half-naked idiots, changing her entire life, and this photo was the first evidence of it. Caitlin Snow-Raymond had been snapping pictures and she’d caught them in a moment, a _perfect_ moment. Felicity hadn’t told him at the time - she would, two years later when he proposed - but the gum wrapper he’d kept had been enough to keep her there, to believe him when he said he had feelings for her. 

This picture had solidified it.

They’d been sitting at one of the tables outside, Felicity leaning into his side, her eyes closed, basking in the sun, a gentle smile on her face and Oliver… he’d been staring at her, like he was seeing color for the first time.

Felicity had gone out and found a frame that fit it perfectly, tucking it in the boxes headed to their summer house.

She’d had an inkling at the time, a feeling, that her entire life was shifting course when she saw Oliver Jonas Queen that night, standing across the crowded room in nothing but his boxer briefs. Part of her had wondered if it was a bad place where her life was headed, because everything up to that point with Oliver had been just that: _bad_. 

But she’d been wrong, and she thanked her younger self every single day for recognizing what was in front of her, for falling into the unknown, for trusting this man to catch her. 

And he had, and he continued to through their lives, through graduation, through living in different cities, through a rocky engagement, through the road to finding their equilibrium again, through careers and family losses and gains, through marriage and two amazing kids, to two son-in-laws and one grandchild with another on the way… 

He was always there, and she knew without a single doubt that he always would be.

Like he could read her thoughts, Oliver turned to kiss the side of her neck, cradling her closer.

“I love you,” he whispered. “And I’m yours.”

Felicity grinned, turning to face him. He smiled at her, the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth so very evident, emphasizing the salt and pepper at his temples and the grey in his beard. He was as handsome as the first day she saw him, both in class and in this very house, but also _more_ , because of the life they’d lived together.

“I love you,” she replied, putting everything she felt into those simple words, the words they’d exchanged for so many years. “And I’m yours.”

They kissed, the most perfect, soft, gentle kiss, summarizing their past, their present and their future in one single moment.

A loud happy shriek of, “Grandpa!” split the air, quickly followed by, “Mom, Dad, we’re here,” and the stampede of feet in the living room.

The smile Oliver and Felicity shared was just for them before they went to greet the life they’d built together.

(The picture stayed in the house for years and years, never moving from its place on the mantle. Generations of Smoak-Queens came and went, pictures were added and switched out, lives started and ended, but that one always stayed. It was an anchor to the beginning, a symbol of love and taking chances, and it was a door, to the future. To forever.)

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse! Thank you for reading!


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